misfit

Deathbelle managed to eek out a smile from her sulking niece. She returned the expression but did not turn to offer her more affections. The world was a harsh place, it would do the child no good to be wrapped in warm happy feelings the whole of her childhood. The act would leave her ill prepared for the challenges of adulthood. Belle would not see Banshee set out into the world unprepared. She allowed the girl her sulking, as long as it didn’t get in the way of her care or education. Eventually it would leave her system, once she realized how insignificant her problems were.

Deathbelle tried to forget the time in her life where angst ruled her. Around the time she realized how much the status of her mother in the Empire mattered. Or didn’t matter as it were. Her father never allowed her to see any favoritism, and silently she thanked him again for it. He’d been an amazing teacher and role model, and she hoped she could do the same for Ban. ”When can we leave this stupid forest? Belle looked away as the amused smile played over her lips before regaining her stoic composure when she looked back to her niece.

”Today,” she answered simply. Already she felt as though the pair of them had lingered here for too long. For a long time she hoped for the return of Hannibal or his woman, but neither reappeared. ”I haven’t decided if we should go west so that I might teach you to be at home in the desert, or south where we will have access to more resources but also the presence of more competition for those resources.” Deathbelle told her niece softly as her lilac gaze peered in each direction respectively. What kind of opinion would her niece offer?