“Flower, didn’t you hear me say yes? I thought you were like one of those deer-creature-spirit thingies,” Hippie Girl said as she began punching Jioni’s arm.
“You mean the Tenebris? They can’t speak,” Jioni corrected.
“What? Sure they can!” Hippie Girl paused. “Wait a minute, something’s off about you.”
The two sat across from each other on a bed in Hippie Girl’s van. As Jioni’s vision returned, she noticed how decked out the vehicle was: counters and pillows; her bed was soft, much softer than the hammock Jioni slept on. She bounced on it as she tried to readjust herself in the claustrophobic yet cozy space. Jioni leaned back, not feeling Hippie Girl’s punches on her damaged arm. Her arms then shifted to an evasive fold. Sweat trailed her hairline—she must know about the arm or at least felt it when she punched. Jioni looked away as she anticipated a chiding comment from Hippie Girl.
