10-09-2015, 03:03 PM
Her eyes fall on a golden child.
Her golden child.
She is young still, well, in her mother’s eyes. She is naïve and innocent and everything that Kindling left her as. In the mind of Kindling, her child is still her little girl.
She isn’t as impulsive and dimwitted as Smolder.
She isn’t as angry and hateful as Sinder.
Her daughter is what should have happened. Oxy, and Kindling… no one, nothing else. It would have started, and ended with her. She eyes as her daughter seems entranced by her appearance.
If only she knew, kin doesn’t mean anything to Kindling.
Her daughter wraps herself within her shoulder and an annoyed flick swings from Kindling’s tail. She wasn’t much for affection, not anymore… And yet here her golden child was, wrapping herself within the warmth of her dearest mother. A mother thought dead, and gone. A mother thought buried along with her history.
It takes a moment for Kindling to correct herself and perform an appropriate reaction, “oh Cress, you’re beautiful.” Her voice is instantly softened like butter, wrapping around her daughter’s ears like a self written piano tune.
“I am so sorry, I am so, so sorry,” her voice is cracking in all the right spots, her tone is smooth in just the perfect fashion. Kindling has mastered her art, practiced her talent. Cress is the missing piece to her very important puzzle. She needs her daughter, she needs her more now than ever.
Kindling has plans, but she needs the foundation first.
“I am here now, Cress… I will always be here.” And her head lowers to conform her child against her chest.
Her golden child.
She is young still, well, in her mother’s eyes. She is naïve and innocent and everything that Kindling left her as. In the mind of Kindling, her child is still her little girl.
She isn’t as impulsive and dimwitted as Smolder.
She isn’t as angry and hateful as Sinder.
Her daughter is what should have happened. Oxy, and Kindling… no one, nothing else. It would have started, and ended with her. She eyes as her daughter seems entranced by her appearance.
If only she knew, kin doesn’t mean anything to Kindling.
Her daughter wraps herself within her shoulder and an annoyed flick swings from Kindling’s tail. She wasn’t much for affection, not anymore… And yet here her golden child was, wrapping herself within the warmth of her dearest mother. A mother thought dead, and gone. A mother thought buried along with her history.
It takes a moment for Kindling to correct herself and perform an appropriate reaction, “oh Cress, you’re beautiful.” Her voice is instantly softened like butter, wrapping around her daughter’s ears like a self written piano tune.
“I am so sorry, I am so, so sorry,” her voice is cracking in all the right spots, her tone is smooth in just the perfect fashion. Kindling has mastered her art, practiced her talent. Cress is the missing piece to her very important puzzle. She needs her daughter, she needs her more now than ever.
Kindling has plans, but she needs the foundation first.
“I am here now, Cress… I will always be here.” And her head lowers to conform her child against her chest.
![[Image: HFqRV2Q.png]](https://i.imgur.com/HFqRV2Q.png)