There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye.
She has never considered herself overly emotional (indeed, few would accuse her off that anymore), has never been as sweet or sentimental as her often too kind mother. But in this moment, seeing her father whole and well, feeling his wings as they wrap her in a warm embrace, the press of his face against her neck, she feels a lump rise in her throat.
For a moment, she gives into the softer side of herself, allows the joy and sadness roiling inside her to reign as she leans into her father's embrace ever so briefly. But just as quickly, discomfort sets in. Not for lack of love for her father (no, she loves her family dearly), but because she is simply not used to displaying such sentiment. She has been hardened by her years in the Amazons, battle-tested and time-worn, and while her emotions might be real and true, she finds it a bit uncomfortable to allow them such free rein. So as much as she would like to tell Tiphon how much she had worried for him too, she finds the words sticking in her throat.
Fortunately her father seems inclined to move on to other, more easily discussed subjects. Ruffling the feathered wings, she glances at them in disgruntlement. Such heavy, clumsy things they are. ”They're even more odd to have, I assure you.” Still, better than nothing, right?
She is surprised to hear of a recent visit to the Jungle. Had she known he was there, she might have found her way out of those verdant depths (depths that had so easily swallowed her, so easily made her lose track of time, of life outside) sooner. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) she would never have the opportunity to do so again.
Offering him a small but genuine smile, one filled with as much reassurance as she can, she glances out at the surrounding meadow, contemplating it silently for a moment before turning golden eyes (eyes so similar to his) back to her father. ”You and me both,” she says, smile slipping into a frown as she speaks. But then, she's had trust issues for a very long time now.
”Not yet, but soon,” she continues in response to his concerned questioning. As always, the women of the Jungle had found each other, banding together into a cohesive unit. With luck (and a generous Beqanna) they would soon have a land to call their own.
”And you? Have you found a place?” She cannot imagine either of her parents without the Dale, but in this raw, strange world, she must. And it does not sit well at all.
Joscelin
Tiphon x Elysteria