Her parents have always been generous with the freedom they have allotted both her and her twin. Children of the solar, they have never been the kind to roost at home—never the type to be dotted on and left to the watchful eye of their elders. Instead, they were as wild and free as the sun and moon from which they were molded and, in their way, Mesec and Alaska had understood that. Did not begrudge them their time spent adventuring and to themselves. To the strange language shared between the twins.
So there is no parent just outside of range to come and save her.
Although Cressida has hardly ever been in need of rescue.
The sound nearly startles her, as much as she allows herself to be startled, and her pale gold eyes widen just slightly as she dips her head down to look to the side. It does not take her long to spot the source of the voice and when she realizes that he is several feet away and with a kind face, her tension eases. Her wings settle again from where they had raised slightly against her back and her muscles loosen.
“I am not my brother so it is a poor imitation of day,” is all she says at first, glancing around the area, where her moonlight plays in silvery ripples. It is not quite a humble statement though, because she truly does love her connection to the moon. She closes her eyes, humming slightly as she angles her head to the side and moonlight plays across her cheek like a melody. The air breathes and she lets it dance around her, plucking the strings of it like a violin. More moonlight washes down and then recedes.
A tide of light around them both.
After several more seconds, her pale eyes open again and she glances back at him.
She does not answer his question nor ask any of her own.
She simply observes.
@[Chemdog] - I'm so glad you did!