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“I haven't really gotten to know her,” you reply. “It's too soon for me to say.” It's the truth but it's also an excuse, so that you don't have to share your feelings with Sissy. You've only just met that man, so you don't see any reason to open up to him. Judging from how he reacts though, he disagrees. His bushy green brow furrows and beneath his beard, you can just about make out a frown.
“Oh, you're tryin' to be all polite 'n proper, ain't you? Well, listen up, boy. You're one o' the Lost now. Stop thinkin' with your head 'n start thinkin' with your heart, 'cause that's where our strength lies. You ain't goin' to fit in this motley o' mine if you're scared o' people bein' offended by your words 'n deeds. So next time I ask for your thoughts, you better bleddy give 'em.”
That's another first impression that you've screwed up.
Despite that, you're still Sissy's responsibility, so he starts with a tour of the house. 'Shabby' would be a kind word for it. There's bits of rubbish and dirty laundry all over the place, and the sight of it is enough to make your stomach churn. This place reminds you a little too much of the Crone's den – maybe that experience has turned you into a germaphobe. Unfortunately, beggars can't be choosers so you hide your discomfort as best as you can.
First of all, you're allowed to shower and borrow some clothes. Even though he's a large man, everything that Sissy has seems to be too small for you. Before you were taken, you were just over six feet tall but you can't help but feel that you've grown since then. Yet another change inflicted on you by your Keeper. Eventually, you settle on some tatty old jeans that stop just above your ankles and a several-sizes-too-small shirt that you're forced to leave open. You know for a fact that if you tried to do up the buttons, they would just pop off.
While you went about cleaning and dressing yourself, Sissy cooked up a little breakfast. Some toast, a couple of fat little sausages, some streaky bacon, a fried egg and even a slice of black pudding, all resting in a little puddle of grease. “Here's somethin' to get your blood up,” the horned man remarks as he dishes it up for you. It's not the healthiest thing in the world but after an eternity of the Crone's stews and brews, it's a welcome change.
Once you're finished with breakfast, Sissy finally sits you down on a grubby old sofa in front of some daytime television. With a can of Stella in one hand and a roll-up in the other, he begins your education.
