((AAAAAH! IT'S ANKA MARVOLO RIDDLE! RUN, EVERYONE, VOLDEMORT HAS COME!))
Wake, Mistress, up, Mistress! trilled billions of tiny voices.
Deirdre groaned, thinking vaguely,
What the...
"She's awake! Well, I think she is, anyway, it's not like she's opened her eyes, or anything, but she did groan-"
"Shut up, Andrew," she muttered as she opened her eyes, wincing at the sudden bright light.
"Okay, then, she's definitely awa-"
The Sand Geomancer glared at him, then sneezed (she was, to her great irritation, coated with a thick layer of sand, both dry and wet) loudly before snapping hoarsely, "Andrew!"
Her friend rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Silently thanking him, Deirdre managed to sit up- the second time that day she'd had to- and, idly wondering why she had been lying in Andrew's lap, asked him, "Where'd those voices come from?"
"What, me telling that woman you were waking up? Hey, by the way, what's your name?" Andrew asked, his question directed towards the woman holding the large staff.
"Nevermind that, Andrew, what were those voices that spoke right before I opened my ey-" she didn't manage to finish her query, however, as she cut herself off with a shriek as a large lump of sand lifted itself off of her lap- without the wand touching it.
"We did!" the sandball announced, it's voice a cacophony of mixed voices- all quite high-pitched, Deirdre realized.
Voice shaky, she replied, asking, "A-and w-w-who is we?"
"We! All us! We have lots of us! We now big us, you see," it chimed back, continuing, "We be sand: much sand, we is. We your helpers, Mistress Sand Lady!"
"Helpers? But- well, no offense, but you're about a billion little particles of sand. How would you be able to help me? By flying into an enemy's nose and causing them to have a sneezing fit, thus rendering them helpless as I valiantly tie them up?"
"Mistress has good idea, Mistress does. But we help Mistress in lots of ways! We can be Mistress' pets!" the lump said, before promptly splitting into five lumps, which then changed shape to resemble very lumpy sand scorpions.
Deirdre blinked. This was quite odd. But then again... She grinned and asked, "I like cats better. Can you do that?"
The five sand scorpions crumbled, but as they hit the ground, shot up again, having turned themselves into five miniature sand cats.
Unfortunately for their budding friendship with 'Mistress', however, said girl noticed the motionless little boy and screamed.
Andrew was left quite helpless, as a ball of sand had just floated off of Deirdre's lap and started speaking to her, who had, in turn, spoken back, before screaming- loudly- as she noticed the dead boy.
Wincing, he slapped his hand over her mouth, effectively shutting her up, leaving her wide-eyed and silent, staring at the child's prone, unmoving body.
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can't find the sig from this set, so instead, you get a
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