01-10-2019, 12:12 AM
 This girlish version of his mother is all sap and sorrow, but Daemron stubbornly refuses to let her tears shake him – at least visibly, for there is something in her stuttering voice that speaks of genuine confusion – but how can he trust her? What if this was just another ploy of hers? Thus hardened by his resolve, he remains unmollified; that is, until he looks back and witnesses the child slip and fall flat upon the earth, the humid air suddenly rife with her high and keening cries. Sufficiently discomposed, the wolfson circles back with a flustered sigh, coming to stand before the small and miserable heap of twig and leaf splayed prostrate at his feet. The child’s head lolls quite pitifully in the dirt, and the iron of his gaze tempers some. After all, while perturbed, he was a father now — he wasn’t completely immune to a child’s cries. There was nothing for it. He would have to console his own mother, though a part of him begrudges her even this. Once lost, Daemron’s loyalties were not easily regained; still, beneath the grit and steel of him it cannot be said that he is heartless. Lowering his head to Noori’s level, his grey eyes square with her from behind a distinctively crooked blaze. The sap-ridden visage that lifts to his is muddled and bleary. Forcing himself to refrain from guessing whether those tears are genuine, the chestnut works to quiet the treegirl’s sobs. “I won’t be made to leave you alone here, mother.” There is a sternness to his voice that is meant to sound rough — yet perhaps his words are softened by the touch pressed briefly to the cracked bark of a young shoulder. “Not like this.” The irony of this situation is not lost on him – yet now that their roles had truly reversed, he felt he had something of a point to prove. (To her? Or to himself?) “I have a family now, you know.” No thanks to you. Daemron suppresses the last, drawing instead upon thoughts of Pyxis and their twins — and while he looks upon her, the harshness of his gaze lessens around the edges. Perhaps the stallion allows himself to see his own children in her stead for just a moment. “You’ll meet them, if you come with me.” Daemron doesn’t quite know how he’ll explain this to Pyxis, not to mention Brigade or Wonder. He had never cared to entertain the idea of introducing them to their paternal grandparents – though he supposes he would have to entertain it now. Finally, the little sapling’s weeping abates, and she follows him out from under the volcano’s shadow on spindled whitebark legs. For his part, Daemron says little and falls to brooding. There wasn’t any point in dredging up a past Noori didn’t remember, and little else existed between them that could pass for common ground. Eventually they broach a familiar copse of trees and come upon his antlered mate. There is little to do now except grit his teeth and introduce Pyxis to his mother, god help him. God help them all. He goes to her, huffs a breath against the warm slope of her in wordless greeting, though she would undoubtedly sense the brooding on him. With a tight-lipped look, he glances from Pyxis to Noori; but again, there was nothing for it. “Pyxis, this is Noori.” She would recognize the name, though she might understandably find the childlike figure attached to it somewhat confusing. He tries to explain. “Obviously, she’s not herself – something must have happened to her. She says she died, but she isn’t talking sense. I had to bring her with me.” daemronlost to the hunt as I was to you |