Lynx would have spared her daughter from these thoughts, from these truths.
If she could, she would have never allowed her daughter to learn the rougher points of life. She would have kept her sheltered from the harsh realities, the evils, the ugly underbelly. But Lynx is a realist first and foremost, pragmatic to her core, and she recognizes that the life of a mind reader is not a sheltered one. Persea could not remain naive forever, regardless of this bubble of joy that she’s been raised in.
Her face is solemn as she holds her daughter, as she presses an absentminded kiss to her forehead. They communicate in so many ways in this moment. With the words that they speak, so carefully chosen and precise. With the way that the embrace, so soft and tender, unspoken love rushing between them. And, finally, with their minds, their thoughts a floodgate opened, both mother and daughter picking through the pieces as they are made available to one another. Lynx does not struggle to traverse all channels.
When Persea begins to question her parents, Lynx makes a soft noise in the back of her throat. “Your father is not the same as mine.” Fox was everything that Offspring wasn’t. He was genuine and kind and loyal—but Lynx doesn’t claim him as her own. “But I do not know what the future holds, Persea. Your father and I haven’t…” her voice trails off and a frown crosses her features. “I don’t know.”
She shakes her head, a smile curving the edge of her lips slightly.
“You’ll know the difference between someone who is difficult to love but worth it and the one who is difficult to love because they don’t. In your heart, you’ll know.” Her face softens a little. “And you will be surrounded by people who do not find it difficult to love you, even in the darkest moments of your life, little bird.” Her mind opens to her daughter, as brilliant as sunshine. “You are not difficult for me to love.”
- lynx -
love brought weight to this heart of mine
@[Persea]