Gil,
Your little flower nearly wilted away when she learned you were gone.
I used to think the name you'd given her was a waste: that it didn't suit her at all. Now, I understand the sentiment you had behind that particular name. You began a war against her labeling immediately after your procurement of her, and that gentle name was one of the first and hardest blows you managed to deal to the struggle.
My superiors and I: we had her labeled as a tool. They first used the term in place of a name for her, and I allowed it. I allowed them to strip her humanity away, fell into the very deception I had crafted to allow her into your care. But she feels. Just like you and I. Her face is not very expressive in general, contributing to her Doll-like appearance. Yet, her soul… it is flooded with the turmoil of emotions expected of a war-scared, blood-stained soldier who lost her beloved in the fray. I see now that should she be so moved by her feelings that her features have no choice but to contort to shine forth the power of it, then you can be sure the strength of those emotions would've blown a less sturdy person to bits.
I guess I can see why you like her.
She found me and demanded the truth. I opened my mouth to tell her you were dead, but I couldn't force the words past my lips. I tried to fault her for rejecting the same cruel reality that I did. Just as before, I began to test her. This time, I tried her humanity with all of my might.
Gil, you had a way of such gentle instruction, shining light on her humanity by cultivating emotions and expression from her even as you responded in kind. The only way I knew to evoke response was through great waves of turbulence.
Her response shook me to my core.
D