"...They're growing well, don't you think, Aradia?" Pandora says as she writes several things down in a notebook about the girls.
"Yes... they've grown very well..." I murmur as I watch them. They've now reached one hundred years old. They're still quite young, but their minds have matured considerably, and they've started to understand the world around them better.
They've formed small rules of their own, and they're beginning to try to communicate. It's still rudimentary. They don't know how to speak because they've never been taught, so they only make certain sounds to indicate a few things. The Golem doesn't speak either, so they don't even have an example of what communication is supposed to be.
"I'm starting to get bored. They don't do anything interesting. Their lives are so simplistic," Pandora says as she gently touches the glass, her tone a mixture of frustration and restrained anger.
