Malachi did seem to follow, but his face was still a mask of neutrality and Chéri did not know how to take it. They side eyed the priest, hoping to catch him unprepared and guess at least the general direction. No luck.

Chéri sighed. “It was hard,” they confirmed. Chéri looked down again, reflecting on their decision, starting to patch together new ones. And while they were still in the process, Malachi spoke again.

Chéri raised their eyes and stared at him, their eyes so big it was impossible not to guess how young they must be and yet there was something very defensive about them, like a pet that never became properly domesticated and still distrusted humans, probably for good reason. Chéri adjusted their back and, showing now a hint of pride and said “I’m an entertainer.” They left that sink in for a moment, probably giving Malachi the chance to show any potentially horror or morbid interest or anything that could give Chéri I cue on whether they should be running away now. Then they added “I also was a dancer.” Which implied they no longer were “I can sing and I can act while I sing.” They went slow, to make sure they were understandable. The rest of their skills, they left unsaid, it was something that would require a proper confession and this was not it.

Chéri cleared their voice and this time didn’t look away. “I would be grateful even just for a meal,” they finally confessed.