Rhyme’s giant paws carried him where Motif set up her den, he brought with him not only words to be spoken but a small gathering of feathers. Different feathers from both Imperia and Solitude. He wasn’t sure if his daughter had any from either of those two birds and with her inherited collection he had no doubt she’d appreciate at least a little, the gift.

Now that his brain was functioning normally again he wanted to rekindle the relationship he had with his dear Motif. He’d been far too absent for far too long, and he’d barely been able to appreciate her return. Rhyme had to change that. He wanted to be present for her, and bring her back under his wing even as their lives continued to change. He’d talked to Theory now he’d turn to dear little Motif. Or not so little anymore.

Dark ears lay over his skull as he approached Motif’s den slowly. ”Hey, Mo?” He asked after her softly with a wag of his tail.

The young girl was rearranging her mother's feather collection, checking for damages, and dirt, and placing aside those that needed a little work. She could touch the collection without tears, and with more than just the thought of what she had lost - but what she had gained, too. She still remembered Ocean’s smile when she had tucked his little feather behind his ear. She brushed over another silver feather, thinking of how well it, too, would match the unique color of his gaze. After a second thought, she tucked it behind her ear, with the blue one that already lived there. She jumped in surprise at the sound of her fathers voice, and cautiously peeked outside the den to find him. She wasn’t really sure what she thought of Rhyme. She didn’t blame him for moving on, for finding love. He needed it, she knew that. But… well, he also wasn’t the one that had found her. A part of her felt she had no parents left, she had Poem, her sister, who caught her every time she fell. Rhyme was almost a stranger to her, though she tried to hide the awkwardness behind a timid smile. “Oh… Hey Rhyme” "Motif"

The young woman who replaced his young daughter Motif almost took him just as much by surprise as his voice had to her. He hid any emotion beyond the love he had for his daughter. Theory wasn’t the only one of his offspring he’d failed in his weakness. Dark ears fell to his head and he returned her timid expression with a soft smile. Unsure when all of his kids started calling him by his name rather than dad. He’d done everything in his power to try and make the right decisions for his children, but in the end it didn’t matter. He had broken, and so had his family around him.

Maybe he’d get a second chance.

”You know you can call me dad.” He told her softly, having said those same words to Theory a year ago. Nostalgia raced through him, remembering those first few moments after Motif and Poem’s birth. Those few precious days when the four of them had been a real family. He willed his heart not to break again and he mentally shook off the difficult memories before he dove too deep. He couldn’t return to the past, he had to look to the future. ”I brought you something.” Rhyme told her, hiding any emotions clinging to his voice as he displayed the black and white feathers for her. ”A gift from Solitude and Imperia.” He explained warmly.

She blushed a little at his words, surprised at how awkward and uncertain she felt around him. This had been the first person that taught her how to spar, to hunt, to heal. He had begun the lessons of plants when she had been so young, so full of hope. He had been the one she had run to, when she thought her mother was being unfair. He had once been the pillar for her strength. When had he become a stranger to her? In part it was grief. She still blamed herself for her mothers death. She blamed Rhyme a little, too, but she hadn’t realised it until she looked into his familiar eyes. She looked away, ashamed at her doubts. She knew what Rhyme would have given to see their mother safe. To bring Motif home. But it wasn’t Rhyme that had fought for her, given up his freedom for her. He had been too busy finding another lov- she cut her thoughts off, understanding then the deeper, darker shape of her heart. She hated herself a little for even thinking it. She knew it wasn’t true, but some part of her was going to struggle with it. She wiped her nose on her shoulder, hoping he hadn’t seen her thoughts on her face as she offered him a wobbly smile. “Thank them for me” she whispered softly. "Motif"

She offered no corrections but Rhyme saw a little blush on her cheeks as he gently spoke. Their relationship hadn’t been the same after everything that had happened. After he worried for days on end about her disappearance, finally getting her back only to lose her mother in her place. Even then Rhyme hadn’t been any use to her. He’d barely made it through the heartbreak. Rhyme wasn’t sure what was going through her head, but she wore her heart on her sleeve and he could guess as much. Dark ears pressed to his skull as he offered up the feathers lovingly.

Motif’s smile wavered and he could see the emotions building up inside. Rhyme was quiet for a long moment. ”I will.” He told her just as softly before going still. His blue and lavender gaze glanced into her own mirrored eyes. ”Motif…” He offered painfully before being unable to restrain himself. He saw so much of Shaye in her that his heart tore open anew. Rhyme leaned forward and gently at first wrapped his daughter into his embrace. If she’d let him Rhyme would squeeze lightly and place his cheek on her head. ”I’m so sorry.” Like Theory she deserved and apology for his absence. For his weakness.

She took the feathers carefully, tucking them securely behind her ear until she would have a chance to add them to her collection. It really was a very thoughtful gift, and spoke of a knowledge of her she didn’t realise her father had. That he had paid attention when she had carefully taken up her mother’s collection. It took her by surprise when Rhyme took advantage of their close proximity, to draw her into an embrace. At first, she was stiff, almost resistant, or at least… uncertain. Then, after a moment, she relaxed into him, burying her head into his neck, so that his own cheek would find her forehead. She sniffled softly into his warm fur, and thought for a moment of her childhood, of a time when safety and happiness was taken for granted. Sniffing a little, breath catching, she asked the first thing that popped into her mind in that moment. Taking advantage of a moment that felt like she was safe in a parental embrace. “Da, what do you think of boys?” "Motif"

She accepted his gift and tucked the feathers behind her ear before Rhyme took her up into a hug. At first he thought she would squirm away from him, and her stiffness didn’t go unnoticed. Only a moment passed and she relaxed into his embrace. Like she remembered again the times they’d spent together. Remembered how much he loved her. He could hear her little sniffles as she held back her emotions but he felt them too. Sometimes they were overwhelming, and it just felt good to hold those you loved close. He did that, and Motif returned the affection.

Rhyme felt complete, but the illusion was shattered with her words. He tried not to react and just continued to hold her. ”What do you mean?” He asked her for clarification, what did he think of boys? opposed to what? He loved his girls, and his son was a troubled mess. Maybe if Samara really was pregnant…

He didn’t seem inclined to let her go any time soon, and she was happy to be in his arms. She leaned heavily against him. Surprised by the realization that they were at equal height. Leaning as she was, the height was wasted. But even that felt right, it allowed her to feel Rhyme was still bigger, still parental and in control. She needed a little control in her life. “I mean…” what did she mean? The words had just come free of her. Did she really know what she was uttering, what she was asking? “Like, do they make good friends? boys. “ it wasn’t quite what she wanted to ask, but now that she was confronted with it, she found herself skirting away from the truth. "Motif"

She was a young woman now, an adult in her own right, but as Rhyme held tightly to her she was again his young daughter. She would forever be his baby, and he would have held onto her forever if she’d allow him. Rhyme sighed softly and held onto her like he used to do, nuzzling her ear playfully as he did his best to put her at ease. Motif spoke softly and uncertainly, like she hadn’t thought about her words enough before speaking them. Boys. He thought softly as she asked if they made good friends. She was old enough now to be exploring the realm beyond friends but Rhyme reveled in her innocence. ”Yes, they make good friends.” Rhyme assured her, but her hesitance told him she was exploring much more than the innocent question. ”You’re old enough to be thinking about more than just friends though.” He hinted softly as he held her tighter, hoping he wasn’t ruining his chances at delving deeper into her life. ”Have you thought about a future family of your own?” Rhyme asked hesitantly, hoping he wasn’t pressing too hard. He’d only just rekindled their relationship and he didn’t want to make a mistake and bring them back to square one. It seemed he couldn’t do much more than make mistakes these days.

She blushed, hiding her head in her dad's coat. He was all the parents she had in the world, and she loved him. Even if she had forgotten or been afraid of that for a time. She didn’t want them to be awkward strangers. “How would… you feel… if I bought a boy home for dinner one day?” she asked cautiously. As he mentioned them being more than just friends. No matter, she was the type of wolf to take things slow. Had she thought about a family of her own? ‘I don’t think i’m ready for that, dad.” she said quietly. "Motif"