She winced at the image he painted, and knew it was to everyone's benefit that her family was not emotionally talented. "I might actually have drowned Tyr if that had been the case," she groused. Adria had already been off on her own adventures by the time Tyr and then Aquaria had been born. Really, there was not much similarity between her and Pteron's childhoods.
Shifting her weight, she thought back to the earlier meeting with the elder brother. A stallion very like Pteron in looks, but with far less brevity to him. It seemed that fate had been unfair when she dealt cards to the children of Lepis. "Tiercel," she answered after a moment, recalling the man's caustic tone when speaking of his family. An outcast in his own mind. She wondered if that was truth in the minds of his siblings.
As much as the darkness allowed, she watched Pteron's face. Hoped he'd say that all was well, and that she could tick his little clan off her list of residents to check on. When he explained that was not the case, her heart fell. "I thought she'd be back already," she said, the ever-present crease between her eyes deepening with concern.
Asena had not stuck around the island much since her fathers had brought her here. She was a seasoned explorer by now, and Aquaria thought well of her. Still, the Dame knew the kind of anxiety an absent child created, multiplied by the weight of darkness. Even if it were only to check in, she knew Pteron would not feel easy about the distance until he'd confirmed his daughter's safety for himself.
It didn't lessen her own worries about him flying off into the dark. "I know you will be," she prefaced, a little awkwardly. "But be careful. Don't go smacking into any mountainsides or anything..." As many hazards as she'd discovered came with swimming in the dark, she could only assume flying came with it's own assortment now.
She hadn't spent much time in the water at all lately, after an experiment that had left her panicking, not knowing which way was up and which way was down. Passing out had been her saving grace, as she'd drifted into shallow water. It wasn't an experience she ever wanted to repeat. Whatever the avian version of that was...
"Keep your hooves to the ground as much as possible. Promise me." She put to him, eyes searching in the darkness for his. She had no right or position to ask anything of him, much less demand. She wouldn't take the words back, though. He was the farther of her children, and a dear -if complicated- companion besides.
She blinked at the night, grateful for the first time at the thickness of it. At having vision obscured. It was so much easier to express herself when she didn't have to immediately see the reactions her words caused.
"At home, bored, chaffing to go investigate, and angry with me. But safe." She reeled off. Torrent had been trying to convince her to let him swim North to look in on Cormorant. A proposition that had been sunk quickly and without mercy. Her flat denial had not been met with any kind of grace, but so far it had been accepted. Just with a healthy dose of sulking thrown in, and several threats to go and stay with his father instead of her. "As long as you don't get in the water," she'd replied, ignoring the sting of his words as well as she could.
@[Pteron]