Hold on to this lullaby; even when the music's gone

When she put her mind to things it was her whole mind, she focused on a singular task and would see it through to the end. So how she made a quiche and a cake at the same time, while forgetting about one and focusing on the other. She nearly always remembered to set a timer it usually pulled her out of her thoughts and daydreams. It was like that this morning, the shrill of the timer jogging her memory about the food in the oven. When she returns to her icing she notes the suspicious trail of a finger through it and cant help but giggle.

"We used to leave trails of clothing through the grass out to the forestâ€"" She says in regards to his speech about clothing. A whimsical smile flits across her features as she pauses and then as an after thought she is placing the bowl back on the counter and stepping back to bend and pull her shirt into her hands, noticing now that the trail of clothing she had left had made it to the back door. She studies it for a moment before pulling it on and searching around for the pair of jeans that ran low on her hips, it didn't grate as much, this tender feeling, but it is enough to pull her from her thoughts again. It would be moments like this that her mother would be yelling for them all to drag their clothing from the property and either put it on or put it in the wash.

"You think these are necessary?" She asks, of their conversations, clearly a tad bit confused on why. Were her questions becoming bolder? At this thought, she ducks her head; her fingers pulling the bowl back to her as she tests the cooling of the cakes. Finding them satisfactory she begins pulling them towards her and in swift moves she is lifting them and layering them with icing in between. She is silent for a few more minutes as she begins the frosting of the top of the cake, her fingers moving of their own accord with no real thought.

The kettle goes off and her attention is pulled from the now complete cake as she watched him hesitate, at his question she laughs and shakes her head. "No, no coffee. Papa thought that caffeine andâ€"in turnâ€"alcohol would cause my power to go off. Not that I am old enough for alcohol anyway, but I think he was just being careful," This is perhaps the longest she has spoken about her family and with this she becomes quiet. She turns her attention to the quiche as she pulls it from the oven while also listening to his intonations about the human race, "We are above humans, yet we live like them. Why?"

She notes his look of apprehension at the dish and she can't help but grin, "It is loads of vegetables mixed with eggs and baked into a pie crust. I would have to make each of my brothers their own if I made this at home," She still speaks in the present, her mind perhaps not understanding yet that this was her home. "Do you eat eggs? I forgot to askâ€"I can make something else?"

"Iâ€"don't know if that is a good idea," She says, apprehension in her tone at the idea of trying her power out. "You have a new acquisition?" This curiosity is enough to banish her earlier feeling.