light a fire in your new shoes
The father of their children arrived with a stern look on his face, and purpose in his stride. Why did his expression feel like a threat? A dare? Brow would rise quizzically as the phantom queen looked upon him with trepidation. He affectionately greeted Divo, and then cast a hard look upon Olya. What had changed, since she had left? Had something gone awry? "I am Samael Morningstar, leader of The band of the fallen, which my daughter's are all part of." He had been true to his word. Yet, there was something in his tone. Distrust, and disdain. A frown creased her brow. "You will be joining yes?" It was a demand, rather than a request. She didn't like it. Pale auds tipped back warily, inquisitive gaze roving over his form. His scarred features cut an imposing figure, but she knew what was in his heart. "Why do you speak to us in this way, Mr. Morningstar? As though we are strangers come to dinner." An honest question, imparting her concern upon him without any trace of impoliteness. The young man seemed to resent her. What had she done? Dominika came racing towards her. The giddy joy on her face melted away any negative emotions stirring in her chest. A broad smile stretched across her face. "Моя любовь, хорошо, наконец, снова увидеть твое прекрасное лицо." She cooed, crown lowering to look fully upon her youngest girl's face. She didn't approach her, or embrace her as Divo had. Instead, she lingered near her father. Oh. Okay. "Мама! Я тоже хочу быть шаманом! Да говорит, что я могу быть чем угодно, если я буду думать о нем!" It seemed that their father's disdain had only grown in her absence. Her smile waned, but did not disappear. It was clear that he had encouraged such a behaviour, but whether it was to spite her or not was unclear. "Если боги предпочли благословить вас, тогда это будет ваш путь." It was too hard to break the news to Dominika when they were just reuniting. Perhaps another day, once everything had settled into a natural rhythm again. Darya barrelled into her at full tilt. The bump against her forelimbs was a lot stronger than it had been before her departure. At least some of her children weren't afraid to show their love to her. The harsh thought came unbidden, along with a wash of guilt. She tenderly pressed kisses to the top of her daughter's head. Her lovely little Darya. "Можем ли мы вернуться домой?" The young girl asked softly, looking harrowed. Softly, she would whisper in her ear. "Когда все будет спокойно, мы можем говорить об этом." She promised. In the common tongue, she spoke again. "My loves, I would like you to meet Olya. She is a shaman from the motherland, and she will be teaching you all the ways of the gods and proper ways to interact with them." Etiquette with the deities was important, as upsetting them would cause strife.
"speech" |
avatar courtesy of trash-klng on dA