Doing things out of order

Relief washed over Theory like a warm embrace. She'd brought him home. "Oh, thank you," she said emphatically. Samara couldn't know how much this meant to her... or maybe she could. Theo shouldn't underestimate her. This kindness was a great gesture. Her father had shared some of his personal trials and tribulations with her when she was younger, and his difficulties with love and women were high on his list. Theory wondered where Samara might fall on his list of wishes (or regrets). "After the volcano... well, you know how the land changed. You've seen. Shaye and our greatest warrior, Odysseus, were trapped in a landslide and perished." What she didn't say was the efforts they went to to retrieve the bodies, the long nights spent wailing, and the indelible mark that had been left on the pack as a whole. "I stand in her place. Hopefully it's some small comfort to you, but Motif is bound for Abaven soon." Poem had done her bid to rescue their sister. Theory longed for the day that they would all be together again, but she tried to be patient. Soon.

Theo could tell that Samara was stretching out on a limb. The small female wanted something, of that she was sure, but Theory could only assume her intentions were pure. It would comfort her, at the very least, to know that she had another set of eyes on Rhyme. "You are welcome to join our ranks on the condition that you report to me weekly, privately, concerning my father," she said, offering her a smile. The condition was less than a formality - of course she was welcome to join Abaven, but perhaps if she got to know her a little bit better, Theo could steer Samara towards Rhyme's company. His daughter longed for some flicker of warmth to return to his empty eyes.