03-02-2017, 11:35 PM
um, SURPRISE!
The worry never eases, never subsides. Four children and still his heart aches as much for Luster as it had for Illum and Heartfire when first they had disappeared for any length of time. He suspects it will always be so, the fear will always linger as each one steals away pieces of his heart one by one.
Ilka is always there, filling his heart anew, but still he worries. Still he fears. Being a father is so much harder than he had ever thought possible.
But Luster returns, faithful child that she is. She holds the softness of her mother, the caring and warmth that is so characteristic of his beloved. He wishes he could protect her from the world’s ills even as he knows he cannot.
He presses close to Ilka as they wait, muzzle resting against her slender neck to ease his fears as much as hers. When the movement draws his eye, brown gaze catching upon the small, familiar form of his youngest, he breaths a sigh of relief. ”Luster,” he says, warmth and welcome evident in his tone.
His heart rises from where it had sunk inside his chest, and he welcomes her into his embrace as she crushes herself into their chests. He presses her close, willing her safe. Her apologies are unnecessary to him; he would always forgive her. He knows too well that children cannot be held to their breasts forever, and he would never expect her to give up the living of her life to ease his.
He nods his head briefly as she offers her explanation, pressing his muzzle against blue the same color as his and closing his eyes for just a moment as relief settles. But as he breathes in the familiarity of her scent, there is a difference. A tang of copper that betrays her wound. His muzzle brushes along her skin until he finds the ragged bite, clean but still far too fresh. He presses a gentle kiss to her neck, below the wound so as not to hurt her more.
”I am glad you have returned, Luster.” He pauses, head lifting as his gaze flickers to Ilka before seeking out his daughter’s. He cannot hide the concern that etches onto his features. ”Will you tell me what happened?”
It is far too clear that the wound had been intentional. And the thought of anyone purposely hurting his daughter stirs the beginnings of anger within him, a soul-deep protectiveness that he cannot deny.
Ilka is always there, filling his heart anew, but still he worries. Still he fears. Being a father is so much harder than he had ever thought possible.
But Luster returns, faithful child that she is. She holds the softness of her mother, the caring and warmth that is so characteristic of his beloved. He wishes he could protect her from the world’s ills even as he knows he cannot.
He presses close to Ilka as they wait, muzzle resting against her slender neck to ease his fears as much as hers. When the movement draws his eye, brown gaze catching upon the small, familiar form of his youngest, he breaths a sigh of relief. ”Luster,” he says, warmth and welcome evident in his tone.
His heart rises from where it had sunk inside his chest, and he welcomes her into his embrace as she crushes herself into their chests. He presses her close, willing her safe. Her apologies are unnecessary to him; he would always forgive her. He knows too well that children cannot be held to their breasts forever, and he would never expect her to give up the living of her life to ease his.
He nods his head briefly as she offers her explanation, pressing his muzzle against blue the same color as his and closing his eyes for just a moment as relief settles. But as he breathes in the familiarity of her scent, there is a difference. A tang of copper that betrays her wound. His muzzle brushes along her skin until he finds the ragged bite, clean but still far too fresh. He presses a gentle kiss to her neck, below the wound so as not to hurt her more.
”I am glad you have returned, Luster.” He pauses, head lifting as his gaze flickers to Ilka before seeking out his daughter’s. He cannot hide the concern that etches onto his features. ”Will you tell me what happened?”
It is far too clear that the wound had been intentional. And the thought of anyone purposely hurting his daughter stirs the beginnings of anger within him, a soul-deep protectiveness that he cannot deny.
All things are possible,
shahrizai
even the worst of things.