What the caterpillar calls the end of the world - any

[magnus]

He almost (almost) didn’t recognize her.

She was older now, maturing into a young woman, and it had been years since he had seen her. Since he had seen her mother. Since he had been ripped away and locked in that forsaken place.

So it took a moment, several moments, for him to believe his own eyes—for him to trust his vision.

But when he did, his heart contracted painfully in his chest, and he rocketed forward, his golden body thundering across the land he had come to know so well. It was difficult to breathe, difficult for him to do anything but focus on her in the distance, as clear as day and as beautiful as her mother had once been.

(Was, he corrected himself. She still was beautiful—out there, somewhere.)

He saw Atrani approach and although it took every inch of willpower, he slowed his breakneck pace, trying to ensure that he did not frighten the poor girl in his haste. He pulled himself back from a gallop to a canter and then to a leggy trot—and when he was near enough that they would hear him, he walked.

Still, he walked quickly, never pausing as he came to Amorette and drew her close, breathing her in and holding her to him. “Amorette,” he breathed, heart pounding. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.” He had questions—so many questions—but he kept them in check for now. Instead, he drew back so that he could study her face, soaking her in. Remembering himself, he laughed, the sound threaded with his happiness as he glanced back. “Atrani, this is my daughter Amorette.” Not by blood, but that had never mattered to Magnus. She had been his from the second they had met in the mountains.

“Amorette, this is Atrani. She’s family.” He smiled. “And this is home.”

out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know
I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll