Harvested
As Zalu stops at the table, her fellow Kea looks at her with a bright smile.
"Morning Jali (Jail-ee), I see your harvested has arrived," Zalu says, and her friend nods.
"This is Fiadh (f*e-ah). She was the closest to death I have ever seen. We were just discussing the tournament," Jali says, and my eyes dart to the girl staring at me.
Her pale blue eyes and reddish-brown hair scream Irish just as loudly as her name. I offer her a smile, but her lips don't even twitch. My smile wobbles and falls quickly.