Alice Scott
Alice's effects had been taken away, not that they had ever really been hers to begin with. Her master had bought them for her, and with his departure she was again up for auction in a slight, silk slip of a dress. It had been for such a short time, she didn't feel as though she'd rightly belonged to Scott, not entirely. It was a curious matter made more curious by the fact that she wondered what it could really be like to belong to anyone. She'd forgotten where they said he had gone, and it would be best to forget his face as well. So few things lingered in her mind with any sort of permanence. She couldn't afford to have another face in them when that face was gone.
The slim blonde was ushered into a pen again, one of the public ones. She wasn't sad. She sometimes felt like she washed over things, never clinging to anything for any meaningful period of time. She decided shortly after that it didn't much matter. Was she supposed to be sad, she wondered? The handlers seemed to think so. They were somewhat put off by the fact that her expression was blank, but she couldn't see why. Everything happened. Not for a reason, but everything happened and would continue to happen as it would. She liked to think of herself as a feather, blown about by the wind as it saw fit.
Her blond hair spilled free down her shoulders and back, blue eyes seemingly vacant until she shut them slowly. Her song was one of the permanents, and they'd said it would attract the right sort of buyer. It had taken her to her last destination, so the young woman began to sing a lullaby. There were children in the same pen again.