A gentle brush against his shoulder is the only affection that Rhonan will ever see from his sister. They are both more aloof, neither following in their clingy mother's footsteps. Perhaps they are more like father or grandmother in that sense. They both care for their family but never enough to openly display it. The brief moment of contact is fleeting and they are soon looking directly into each others eyes. She hears her name spoken, his voice earnest and deep. "Damn, you've grown up," a grin twitches at the corner of her mouth but dies away before ever spreading. "You were cute and small. What happened?" He is growing older and she isn't, not really. Time has frozen for Nayl; her pretty face has halted at the innocence of a three year old. Despite being his senior they look the same - both so young and dumb. She already realizes how much of a curse her immortality will be; Nayl will outlive her siblings and perhaps even her children and grandchildren. One lifetime is only a blink of an eye for her.
The image of Rhonan and Tytos dead on the beach ripples into her mind but she eagerly wills it away.
"The Valley," she knows minimal of the kingdom. It's in her agenda to visit one day; father lived there as does their half-sister. With Rhonan there maybe she can motivate herself enough to see what type of kingdoms lie beyond the emerald sea. "Have you met Thorunn?" The question is breach, unwilled and without restraint. Her curiosity is burning deeply but she distracts herself by lingering on his question. The words are dancing around her ears unanswered for what seems like eternity until Nayl rolls her shoulders and escapes her gripping trance. "Tytos I haven't seen. Mother, on the other hand, is getting older." Gray hair peppers Myrina's face and body. Her back is swaying and she simply looks ragged on some days. "Who knows how long she will last," compassion is suddenly lacking in her voice as though she's undaunted by the thought of losing their mother. In reality, however, Nayl would be broken if it happened.
The solemnity of their conversation is rattled when Nayl draws in a breath. Changing seasons lay their marks but it isn't their surroundings that she hones in on. It's him, her dear little brother. A lopsided grin stretches across her lips. "Who are the girls?" She doesn't elaborate but snidely adds, "They need my approval first, you know."
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