[private] Please stay, for this fear it will not die; Daemron.

[Noori]

Most days, most days stay the sole same
Please stay, for this fear it will not die
Down low, down amongst the thorn rows
Weeds grow, through the lilies and the vines

I won't be made to leave you alone, mother. The words are by no means gentle, but their sternness quiets the girl's rampant sobs with a fatherly effectiveness. And indeed, her stuttering gasps are reduced to only whimpers when Daemron's muzzle meaningfully connects with the tiny slope of her shoulder. Not like this.

As a calmness rushes over her, inspired solely by the compassion of the wolfson, some irregular representation of understanding returns to the child. She knows, as she gazes blurrily up at that irregular blaze, that the stallion standing above her is her son. She knows, despite her poor, baby-like senses, that she has hurt him in her past life. And, worst of all, she knows exactly how.

Subdued now, and ready to obey her saviour, the small figure rises up from the dirt and the ash. He mentions family but it is all too clear now just how ironic and painful that is, for him and for her, but especially for both of them together. He needn't even speak the words he thinks for her to know them to her core - but some semblance of her adult self infiltrate's the child's body in the wake of her emotional outbreak, and she clings to the sanity found there as she follows the tall, chestnut stallion to wherever he might choose.

She is tired, despite having photosynthesized prior to Daemron's arrival. That is the price of adulthood, the babe realizes. A constant, undying exhaustion, though due in no part to a lack of sleep.

Eventually, he leads her to an unfamiliar copse of trees, though it smells strongly of him. Words burble into Noori's throat but she stays them as she has for the whole journey to this place, knowing that it would be better to wait for her son's lover to help him recover from what she needs to tell him. Still, the urge to spill it all now and to once again fall into a miserable, pitiful heap is undeniably strong; but she wrestles through it, heart rate increasing drastically as she realizes that which is about to unfurl.

Halting just away from where the mare he approaches stands, Noori watches the two embrace. It is automatically clear that the two hold love for one another in a way that the small creature knows that she does, too - but that information and the name Trekk remain yet elusive, evading her understanding despite her efforts to pinpoint the name. Instead, she is distracted by Daemron's introduction of her; shivering slightly, the girl's green glow intensifies, casting the red which traces the cracks of her alabaster bark a strange, bloody brown.

Pyxis expresses her confusion, and her desire to help; but the exhaustion from before is returning with a vengeance this time, and so Noori makes quick work of something that truthfully required months worth of discussion.

Leave it to her to fuck up the part where she tries to fix her fuck ups.

"Dae," she speaks, the word evidently clearer and more knowledgeable than the ones she'd spoken previously. Raising her sap-stained face to his, the girl's wide, pupilless eyes blink once, and then not again. "I love you, and I'm sorry for being a burden. I am also sorry, because - I lied." No tone of whining or keening enters her voice; she will not again lower herself to the level of begging for pity. "About your father. Eight sired only Cerva. Another stallion sired Nihlus. And your father - is Trekk." She speaks the name, and suddenly realizes that it had been the one evading her memory just minutes before. This revelation does not show on her face, for its white length is somber and, admittedly, tired. "We have many children together... perhaps someday, you can meet them."

Yawning, the adult Noori recedes into a deep, dark, unreachable place at the core of her being. In her place, the girlish nymph is left, blinking in a silly manner at the adults before her. "It was nice to meet you both... Thank you for taking care of me."

And, with sleepy steps, the child clambers over to Dae. Stretching, she kisses his shoulder, and yawns again; and, in the next breath, she plops down to the ground, legs folded neatly beneath her. Before long, the sweet sound of a baby sleeping serenade the couple - the couple, upon whom a bomb has just been dropped.

noori

@[Daemron]