The Choices She Makes
Prologue: Ever wonder?
Written by: Oneiromancy

Disclaimer: I don't own FFVIII; or its characters. «Applies Throughout Story»

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The sun shined its rays down on a secluded field near a small brick ranch house that resided not very far from an edge of a quaint little town. A chilly wind picked up as a tall blonde woman and young identically blonde child play out in the field, amongst all the grass and greenery. The foliage of the trees held the crispest red and yellow leaves that are on the verge of drifting to the ground with every gust of the wind.

The older woman smiles at her younger counterpart. The wind was blowing their golden locks as they ran around in a game of tag. "It's getting a little chilly, Quinn. We should go inside." She called out.

The little girl about the age of six ran towards the woman, "Okay, Mommy." She slipped her small hand in her mother's bigger one and they made their way towards the house.

The house was small but fit for the two of them. Opening the screen door, the woman led her daughter into the house. "Want to make cookies?"

The girl's bright blue eyes lit up as she happily exclaimed, "YAH!" Quinn let go of her mother's hand and rushed towards the kitchen and began taking out ingredients.

The woman smiles as she follows Quinn into the kitchen, supervising her daughter. Always ready to take initiative, amazed as the girl remembers all the ingredients for the cookie recipe. She takes off her coat and sets it on one of the kitchen table's chairs.

The woman's blue eyes briefly look over at the fridge. It was adorned with colorful doodles and drawings of sorceresses and knights; cowboys and horses; and lions. Her daughter had a very colorful imagination. The content of the art, though, had to be blame for the stories her friends always told her.

In the top corner of the fridge, there was a small picture. One of which consisted of the blonde woman, a really young Quinn, and three men that surrounded the girls. The tallest of the three men was blonde with sea green eyes. He was smirking at the camera. The second tallest of the three, wore a cowboy hat and had a lazy grin on his face. The last and shortest of the men but taller than the woman, wore a fur-collared jacket. His dark brown hair falling into his face as he faintly smiled.

"Mommy, what does this say?" Quinn's voice rang out in the kitchen.

The woman shifts her gaze back to her daughter and walked over to her. She looked over the girl's shoulder and read the word that Quinn was pointing at, "Margarine."

The little girl's eyebrows furrowed together, "What's that?"

"It's almost like butter. People use it sometimes if they don't have butter, but look we do." She points to the sticks of butter that Quinn had already pulled out. She turns to her daughter and starts to unwind the scarf around Quinn's neck. "Take off your jacket, sweetie, you'll get it dirty."

"Oh, yah, I forgot." She slips out of her jacket and hands it to her mother.

The woman places the jacket on top of her own on the chair. She turns back around to watch her daughter. Never seized to be amazed at how bright her child was. Quinn, more or less, recalled the recipe from memory and didn't rely much on even reading the recipe card that she pointed to earlier. She sits down at the kitchen table and flips open the newspaper that was resting on the table. She slips on thin-rimmed reading glasses on her face.

After a moment of silence between the two, Quinn looks up from stirring the contents in a large bowl. "Mommy, I wanna ask you somethin'."

Her mother looks up from reading, "Yes?"

"Uhm. I was wondering, but how come I don't have a dad?"

The woman frowns slightly, "You do. It's just complicated."

Quinn's blue eyes widen, "Really? Who is it? Do I know him? How come you guys aren't married?" The girl let the questions tumble out of her mouth, curious about her mother's love life.

The mother purses her lips together, sighs, and rubs the side of her forehead, "I wanted to tell you when you're older."

The little girl pouts and whines a little, "But I wanna knoooow."

She sighs again, knowing that once it's brought up that there was no changing the subject since Quinn is a persistent child. "Well…"

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A/N: I'm not quite sure where I'm heading with this story, but I have a general idea of what I want. I just hope that I'm a decent enough writer not to make any of this confusing. I want this to be a guessing game.

The prologue was basically a glimpse at the Quistis's future, but dundundun who's the father of Quinn? The child looks exactly like Quistis so bleeeh. xP

I greatly appreciate any type of feedback.