for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
She has looked for her many times. Her firstborn, a butterfly burning fallen angel who told Kensa more about herself and Litotes than any other thing in their lives. They are both beautiful and fierce and in their daughter all of who they are within shows up in brilliant color.
And still she is so uniquely herself, so unexpected, right down to the butterfly torching.
Kensa is gazing steadily toward Loess, lost in thoughts about her daughter, her son, their father. Valek is nearly a yearling and a terror of his own kind. Litotes is lord and master in Pangea. Brunhilde draws into her field of view and Kensa watches, wait to see if the girl will continue on into Hyaline and trying to remember the last time that she had. She is so tall now, and her father’s blood gives her an exotic sleekness that makes her look closer to womanhood than she truly is.
The Primarch’s attention is turned inward as she absently watches the flame girl draw over the border but when the sweet vulnerable voice rises up over the birdsong and leaf-whisper sound of Hyaline Kensa snaps to attention. It is protectiveness and love that sharpens her features and she shifts to move out of the tree cover to greet Brunhilde, to soothe what she can...but the flame girl spots her before she can move more than a twitch.
Are you spying on me?
Now the tone is unhappy, accusatory and Kensa moves forward to meet her, white limbs carrying her out of the heavy cover where she’d settled. “Hildy. No, I’m not spying on you. I was looking out for you. Hoping to see you.” Kensa doesn’t let any kind of placating strain come into her own voice, but stops before the fiery child, honest and open as ever. “I miss you, Brunhilde. I am proud of you for making your own way in Loess and I don’t want to crowd you, but I miss you.” The sabino has never tried to retrieve the youth, she’s learned, maybe the hard way, that none of them are static, that everyone she loves will change and leave and the only way to hold on is to keep on loving them anyway.
@[brunhilde] clunky
