Was apologizing frequently a bad thing? One would think that would be the opposite as it was the primary way of telling someone that one didn't intend to cause harm or any negative connotations that might have been mistaken for. Curious, but Belladonna will remember that.
"Yes, she is nice. She does not drink blood as far as I can recall. And she is mentally stable as well, so there is no need to be frightened."
Without delaying any further, Belladonna walked down the gravel road and up to the door, which she opened with a key that she seemingly pulled out of nowhere, as if she had it in her hand all this time.
As the cool air from the inside greeted them, the first sight to greet them would be the lobby, a big open space with a crystal chandelier hanging from the 2nd floor ceiling. On the side walls of the first floor were two large doors, each leading to different types of rooms. Two large curved set of stairs lead to the second floor, but underneath where the stairs met was another double door.
Though unfortunately, Luna wouldn't get a tour yet as Belladonna walked straight to the door on the right, which lead to a parlor that had all its thick drapes closed. On one side of the room were book cases. House plants were by where the windows would be. In the center was a large, circular, glass coffee table which had a single cup of coffee, still steaming a little. There was a couch on the right of the table (from where the two girls were) and four cushioned chairs surround the rest of the table. On the one single chair that faced them was a woman.
"Mama, I'm home," she said softly and sweetly as she walked in.
"I've brought a guest."
"I can see that, my dear," a woman with dark hair and emerald green eyes hidden behind glasses said. She seemed friendly, if not looking a bit exhausted. She had the look of a woman with either unending patience, or a spirit which had been broken enough that emotions seemed meaningless.
She looked rather young, perhaps in her mid-twenties. But the most curious thing about her aside from her attire that makes her look like she had just arrived from work as a secretary was her limbs. While her left leg was clearly just a regular, pale-skinned leg that went with her skin tone, her right, from the middle of the thigh down, was black metal. Prosthetics, clearly, but if they were color differently, the could be mistaken if one had just quickly glanced at them. The same could be seen in both her arms. Both were from the shoulder down. It could have even been mistaken as a pair of evening gloves.
As for what she was wearing, her top consisted of a white shirt under a dark purple dress shirt with thin vertical stripes, which was underneath a white lab coat that remained unbuttoned. As for her bottoms, she was wearing a black mini skirt.
She was sitting with her legs crossed, prosthetic over her natural leg. There was a book in her hand, which she closed as they came in, her thumb in between the pages.
Belladonna turned to Luna and gestured to the woman.
"This is my mother, Sarah." She then turned to Sarah, who now had a subtle happy smile on her face, and gestured to Luna,
"Mama, this is Luna. I met her tonight. She saved me from bad people."
