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The days have turned to weeks and the weeks to months, as my little traveling companion and I make our way across the dusty Midwest.
Spring and Summer had come and gone, the cold of autumn has begun to set in.
Ever since our encounter back in Kansas City we have been practically inseparable.
Gypsy Jack she calls herself.
She is little more than a pup by human standards, and quite small by ours.
Somehow, this little girl had found herself alone, wandering the dusty roads of life with neither guide nor protector.
When I asked her about her parents she simply shook her head and continued sucking on one of those ever present lollipops of hers.
I swear I don't know where she gets them.
I tried taking them away for a while, explaining that they would only rot her teeth, but somehow she got a hold of more.
I've caught her begging for money in more than one town along our trip, although she doesn't seem motivated by greed as much as simple, childlike innocence and fun.

Occasionally she pipes up in that little voice of hers and asks me where we're headed, or what I plan on doing when we get there, but she doesn't speak very often.
Just as well.
I don't have many answers for her.

She seems to have taken a liking to braiding my hair, although only Father Wolf knows why.
I find myself waking to new patterns every day, all manners of beads and bones and such.
I see no harm in allowing her to do so however, at least it keeps her occupied.
Such a strange child...