Jin Jing stood in a darkened room. Her short form was hunched over and stirring what appeared to be a pot of soup but on closer observation was a pot of swirling gold threads.
Green fire coated the exterior of the round and charred looking metal cauldron and she seemed unbothered by the fire as she stirred the gold threads with a wooden spatula.
"You acted pitifully yesterday mother. " A dry raspy voice floated towards her in a whiperlike timbre. "I'm disappointed. "
Jin Jing gave no indication that she heard the voice or the underlying disgust within the voice. As she pulled out three strands of her long grey hair out from the tight bun it had been in before and added it to the swirling mixture. "Surely, daughters do not speak to their mothers this way."
"You are no mother of mine!!"
