Silent Stalk (Angel!)

Taryn's light tread led her to the empty grave. Rae had insisted upon a public burial, outside of where it was accesiable to Taryn-where she could reach it. Taryn was hideously apposed to the idea, but now that she was here instead of home, she was somewhat grateful. Her feet dragged to a stop-only now did Taryn realize she still wore the combat boots she had come home in. A split second later, she recognized she didn't care. Looking up at the stars, instead of down at the grave, a small, bitter, sarcastic smile tugged at Taryn's lips as the cool rain fell like a mist on the dark graveyard.

Angel didn't like visiting graveyards. It was stupid, but she hardly stood it.

It was Maggie's idea that she visit her mother's grave. Angel'd never gone if it weren't for that she'd been pushed into it. She walked around the graveyard, miserably looking for a LaRue.

Jeanette LaRue's grave was easy to find. Angel knew it right away, but instead of falling to her knees weeping, she kept her distance.

Managing to stand a foot away, Angel saw someone standing some graves away. She was really not in the mood for talking, but no doubt Maggie would never let her in now.

"Oi," she said. "Who are you?"

Taryn's hazel eyes flickered up to locate the voice. "Taryn," she responded to the girl simply. "Why?" Shrugging, Taryn turned to Avon's grave-empty, of course. Something inside her used to say how much she hoped that somehow, she was still alive. But she doubted that now. "And who are you?" Taryn asked, somewhat snappy. She just didn't get why you'd talk to someone in a graveyard.

"No reason," Angel replied, and sighed. There was no use in faking her name again. "Angel."

She edged closer to the grave, and pulled her stepmother's grave candle out of her pocket. Angel lit it, and placed it by the stone, getting a closer look at the inscription on the grave stone. She shut her eyes, and started humming to herself.

Angel soon recognized the tune as the one that was sung to her when she was small.

When all is lost,
you cannot find your way.
Call upon the angels of guidance,
and it will become another day....

The rest of the song went on the same way, with all kinds of angels. Angel remembered most everything, as she had her father's good memory. She looked down at the candle, and sighed.

"Who died?" Angel asked no one in particular.

"Angel? That's kind of cool," Taryn replied absently. Truth was, she did think that. "Guess I can't blame you for being curious," she shrugged. Taryn could here the girl's humming as Angel viewed the gravestone. It sounded just vaguely familiar-but Taryn was one to sing, not hum. A graveyard, however, didn't seem to be the appropriete place to burst into song. "My sister, Avon," Taryn's voice was hollow, empty, her eyes on the empty grave. "It's empty, though. More symbolism for Rae. How about you?" Taryn interrogated, flashing her hazel eyes to look at Angel for a moment.

"Angel? Nah," Angel said. "Taryn's much better."

She stopped humming, and shut her eyes tighter. "I'm sorry. Empty? That sounds slightly comforting, I guess." She sighed, and tried to get the angel song out of her head.

The girl opened her eyes, and looked over the graveyard. "My mum," Angel replied quietly. "It was nearly seven years ago, but I still feel like it was my fault."

She raised herself, and looked at Taryn. "Who's Rae?"

"I've never liked my name," Taryn responded absently. She left it at that, very vague. There were reasons she didn't like her name, none of them about its quality; it had too much to do with her broken and departed family.

"It's okay. I'll get over it," Taryn grimanced slightly, as she thought of the almost four years it had been and how she still hadn't moved on. "It's not. Her actual grave lays in the catacombs at Durmstrang. Like I said, symbolism," she shrugged.

"I lost my parents, too. I'm sorry. I guess guilt comes with the death deal. Avon's been dead for almost four years-she'd be thirteen now. And it is my fault," Taryn squeezed her eyes shut, keeping back the tears that threatened to spill. "That's what really sucks."

Taryn looked over at Angel. "My adopted drunk. I refuse to call her mother," the Uchitel's voice was full of bitterness, but directed at an entirely different person than the one in front of her.

"I guess people in general don't really like their names," Angel said gently. She lifted her head up to the sky. "I like stars."

"I know," she said gently. She didn't know when a person got over someone dead, but it still hurt even seven years later. Well, nearly seven anyway. "Whoa."

"Yep, guilt kind of comes extra, and it sucks," Angel sighed. Her parents had been so happy before she was born. It was her fault. She sighed again, trying not to cry. "How could it be your fault?"

"I have an adopted family, too," Angel said. "Maggie's okay, Tallulah is the only person in the world I'm sure I love, but my "brothers" are horrible." She started humming the angel song again.