Mirina, the malkavian fledgling who had brought the city to a boil, sat in the back of the cab, her hands fisted beside her bowed head as she swayed in place, muttering under her breath. The driver watched her calmly from the front seat, waiting for the fledgling to be ready to speak. Suddenly, her head snapped up, hands falling into her lap and her two-toned eyes wide as she began to wail.
"Stop stop stop, stop stop! STOP STOP... no go faster, drive until the lights blur!" Without warning, she stilled, her eyes sliding over to the driver and her blood-red lips dropping open slightly as if in surprise.
"Father, what does my blood say? Where does it lead me?"
The driver smiled in the rear-view mirror and began to speak, to outline her many options, his lightly accented voice soothing the unsettled childe in the back seat.