cold in the violence after the war
hope is a fire to keep us warm
If Lilli had asked that question of Brazen, she’s not entirely sure she’d know how to answer. Of course, the technically correct answer would be her mother and Nerine, but really, that’s not the answer that was needed. As it were, she likely wouldn’t know. Would’ve been flummoxed as she tried to summon a response that seemed adequate.
Perhaps it’s fortunate then that she doesn’t need to answer it. Instead she is left content to walk beside her newfound friend as the conversation turns to her mother.
She would never pretend to understand her mother. Most would likely think it odd that she doesn’t have those warm and cozy memories that most young girls have of their time spent with their parents. Only the furthest reaches of her memories contain any recollection of the warmth. Of a time shortly after her birth when her mother and father had both been present, a sense of contentment and love suffusing the air as she and Dagen had curled with them.
But these things hadn’t lasted unfortunately. She had learned of her father’s other families, of her mother’s cold, distant mask she so often wore. And she had learned of the complicated relationship that existed between her parents. One she, to this day, still has not found a way to describe. It’s odd growing up, knowing that.
And now, her mother had grown even more distant, immersed as she was in her duties as queen. Without her dad there, it seemed she had nothing to distract her. And father? She hadn’t seen him in so long she had begun to wonder if he would return. She has faith because she must, but she misses him. An ache that is not always so logical for a girl like her.
She realizes after a moment that she’d probably been silent too long. Glancing quickly at Lilli, she offers her a small, half-smile as she replies quickly, “She’s… different, I think. Hard and cold. She loves us, I know. Me and my brother. But…” she pauses then, trying to come up with the words to describe it. “It’s like she doesn’t know how to be anything else.”
The conversation shifts then, and Brazen immediately regrets asking why she’d come looking for the Dale. There is such an immense sadness that suffuses her, Brazen cannot help the sympathetic ache that grows in her own heart. Angling closer almost subconsciously, she butts her shoulder gently against her companion’s, muzzle pressing briefly against her, teeth nibbling in affectionate camaraderie.
In the moment, it doesn’t occur to her that most don’t use their teeth in the same affectionate way her family does.
“I’m sorry,” she replies softly, though it feels inadequate. She pauses for a moment, eyes shifting to the trees briefly before returning to Lilliana with sincere concern. “Are you sure you want to know more about the Dale? I wouldn’t want it to cause you pain.”
Brazen
