Wandering around

Edward raised her hand, waving it in the air for a few seconds and "The path wanted me to go here." She chimed in, but no one was paying attention so she fell silent.

Wait... How come people complained when they got kicked here? She knew you weren't supposed to say anything, but Chris-king was getting mad at the person for it... No, that wasn't right. She sat down on the ground by Emily's headstone, hugging her knees tightly and staring off at nothing. Maybe he didn't know. She would just be quiet for him, and it would stop...

Chris-king was saying something. She frowned at the sound of her name, looking up to see if he was talking to her or about her.

He was waiting, waiting for an answer, and she decided that maybe she'd been quiet enough and it was all over; she whispered a 'yes' and when no one came bearing down on her, she smiled shakily and continued. "Maman didn't know if I was a boy or a girl, so she named me both two boy names and two girl names to be safe. There's Edward, Isabelle, Amèlie and Évariste, and then maman's last name and père's last name. Monette and Winters." She paused, in thought, and "Then I've only got four names, 'cause maman and père are just letting me use theirs until I find my own." She wasn't even sure if Chris-king was still listening to her, and she didn't want to look up at him in case Angry-girl got mad at her too.

So she kept her head down, staring off at where the small group's knees were hidden beneath the folding fabric of their pants. She didn't mind that it was her only view, no.
She was used to it by now.

"Course you are, Chris-king. That's how it works." She didn't bother to explain what she meant, but she turned her head back down and let her eyes glaze over as if she knew the part of the conversation she wanted nothing to do with would carry on for much longer then she'd like.

Her black eyes raised mistrustfully, and she steeled her chin as if preparing for a deck in the mouth. No, Chris-king wouldn't do that... He was too nice, much too nice. She frowned, answering herself: everyone is much too nice, aren't they?
"I don't know." She shrugged, brushing the soft red hair from her eyes with one dirty hand. "However all the older people get names of their own."

Ed frowned up at Aletia, black eyes swirling with fear and anger. "How do you know?" Her teeth were clenched - she wanted the girl to be quiet; she knew from experience that if she kept talking a kick would be launched at her stomach. "You don't know someone 'till you know them angry. They can be nice, nice, and then..."

A voice echoed in her brain - Emily's, and she stood up cautiously and hid behind the ghost's skirts. "But they might..." She whispered in answer, ebony eyes staring up at the woman for a few breaths' time.

She finally nodded uncertainly, coming out from her hiding place as if from great coaxing, one hand still tightly gripping the cold, dead hand. If anyone hurt her or Aletia, then Emily would just hurt them back...