Josephine dragged herself over the floor of the circus tent, the boredom having struck her. She hummed a lullaby as she rolled over to her back, wincing softly as Lefty's head was bumped against her own. Even after all this time, she had to get used to that extra head on her shoulder. Especially when sleeping.
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Atara had slumped down next to Timothy, scrapping a sharp rock along a piece of wood she had found in the forest, making something similar to a stake.
She and Timothy got along fine. There was nothing such as 'friendship' between them, but there wasn't any annoyance on both their parts, either.
To Timothy, Atara was the silent, mature and caring woman he needed to get silent support from. To Atara, Timothy was like a silent and unsure boy that she felt like protecting. Timothy never provoked Atara, and in turn, Atara cared for Timothy.
((Fail post is fail x'DD))
)