"I haven't been 'scared ever since'!" Lyra protested, frustrated with this description of herself. It was a little true, but it wasn't all true; she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him but that wasn't purely out of fear. It was a shitty label; too simple to be right. Also, she didn't know what to do about the word abused, she really didn't like it, didn't like the way it painted her, and she saw Little John glance her way but she refused to meet his eye cuz she didn't wanna see pity on his big stupid kind face. "Yeah it's good," she said fiercely, feeling pushed into it cuz she didn't particularly feel like agreeing with anyone right this second.
She could sorta hear herself sounding unreasonable, but also if anyone tried to point that out to her she was gonna bite their heads off. She could sorta see that pacing in this tiny space was gonna make her look like she was loosing it, too (and she wished with another pang that she was up on the roof of her old apartment, so much room to pace back and forth by their chairs while she figured shit out.) Instead, Lyra sat down hard on an armchair with a thump, and sat on her hands. "And I'll have wine," she added, in the same fierce tone.
"It is good," Little John reiterated, thinking perhaps she needed to hear it a few times before it sunk in properly. Tea was good for that, tea helped news sink in much better than coffee or wine. "World's a safer place now. I've seen no sign of any faery trouble since we got back, and I've been looking out."
"Me too," Lyra said quickly, looking over at him, leg jiggling where she sat. "I've been paying attention. Few weeks ago, in Evergreens cemetery, we got chased out, got grabbed, got tripped, heard stuff and saw something in the shadows."
Little John frowned softly, rubbing his beard. "You sure that was faeries?"
"Yes," Lyra insisted firmly, holding on to something she was sure of. It had to be them.
"Huh," Little John said, a thoughtful huh, turning it over in his mind. "I would've thought the hallowed ground of a cemetery would have kept them away. Elaine might have more to say on that, but a saint's kid on hallowed ground, that doesn't strike me as easy pickings for the fey."