He would haunt The Marble Wash almost religiously; silently troubled by the fact Athena had chosen to loosen the heavenly province from Glaciem?s grasp. Though soon Isardis would be sure to re-crown it his own, until he had the numbers to do so it was but a thriving obsession within his wits. Coral toes would fall seamlessly upon weather-perfected marble, pale nails clicking with rhythmic chime as the King meanders with hidden intent; cherry towers loose atop his silvery skull as coral nostrils feverishly devour the scent of a familiar? it takes but a few moments before he comes to realise who she, and the result is but a moment of welcomed astonish. ?Eulari,? he hums inaudibly beneath his breath, ruby gaze seeking his daughter restlessly.

She could smell Glaciem here still, and decided to talk a stroll relatively close to the borders. However, as she got closer she began to realize that the lovely marble path and the place where it lay had fallen from the empire's grasp. Had they fallen so far in her absence? Plush banner would swing listlessly in an arc at her rump as she meandered along, intent to discover something of how things were going back home. Pale features were calm, placid even, as she strolled along. As she'd grown into her body, curves had begun to fit her, subtle cheekbones had become a touch more obvious, her stride had grown confident. She was aware that she was not an ordinary sight, and it showed, though the auburn pelted lady tried not to make herself seem haughty and arrogant. How the femme loathed such wolves, who thought they were everything that was right with the world. Often they were wrong, and that was exactly what was wrong with the world. Pale pink pools would scan over the lovely scenery, following the tracery of coloured veins within the pale stone. Then they came to rest upon a familiar, strong figure. A smile would begin to creep onto her alabaster face, dark lips curving slowly but surely into a joyful expression. "Now isn't that a sight for sore eyes." She murmured, chuckling a little as she padded down the gentle slope of the embankment toward the rose hued king of the north. As she came closer, her smile would grow fond. She stopped fairly close to her father, as always forced to raise her ivory snout to look upon her father's face. "Long time no see, father. I missed you, though I can guess you hardly noticed? I wasn't exactly your only child, nor a favourite." She chuckled, though there was a hint of sorrow to her lyrics. She wasn't exactly lying, the girl had been pretty mixed up in the past. However, that did not quite mean she regretted anything. OOC: Oh gawd the craptasticness that is this post why Speech,

She had plagued him as any missing child would it?s father; though he held little concern for her safety as such, the disappointment in her departure had soon morphed to that of pine. Obsession tapped mercilessly upon his memory, thoughts shifting between the faces of his offspring and all they were? or rather, all they could have been. Sibelle often haunted the chasms of his intellect, pleading with his mind that someday her potential would not be wasted on poor achievements. It would be foolish to suggest Eulari had plagued his thoughts any less; she was after all, much closer to the sovereign, closer to his grasp. But little need he ponder, for as her slender figure sways upon his view, Isardis cannot help but know the timing is utterly splendid. His mind was wholesome, sure? until the potent stains of her lips soil the eager beam that had previously fluttered his cherry lips. She speaks poorly of him, as though she expecst very little, and instantly the Lord?s features will sour; coral towers pulling back against his pale skull in apparent distress. They had left on level terms, his relationship with her close, what had become of her? ?What monstrosities have so tarnished your mind?? the vocals are almost puzzling as ruby gaze claws eerily upon her own, ?Your absence has ailed me, your vanishing haunting me even through the fevers of my own ill health; what has suffered you in your nonexistence that has caused such a loss of faith in your father?? he is sincere, dissapointed, troubled. He has missed her.

OOC: I'm going to be honest here and say I have no idea what just happened. Her father was quick to reply, he looked scandalized by her admittance. How could she be blamed for such thoughts, given that Isardis had spawned a literal army of children in his time, that he would not even realize her absence. She did love her father, truly. He had taken her in when her own siblings had rejected her, and again after she'd abandoned him to stay with Taurig after... Though it was not long in her mind, these negative thoughts, as her father was more than ready to promise that he had missed her. His query brings nothing from her lips, she has nothing valuable to reply with. All she can offer is a simple shrug of her petite russet shoulders. Then something does manage to escape her maw, though it is merely a sigh. ?Father, nothing happened while I was gone that I would doubt you.? Her quiet melodies assure him, a small, sad smile slowly creeping up onto her features. ?You are the great northern king, you conquered and rule an empire. You've conceived plenty of children who have followed in your footsteps, not to mention they're all drawing in mates like moths to a flame.? She chuckled, though there was not real mirth behind her words. She was letting it all out, exactly like none of her other relatives would think to do. An Armada she was not, though it didn't bother her as much as everyone might think. Another sigh, and orchid optics would seek out her father's gaze, flick over his strong features. They were familiar, comforting. The femme would not shed a tear, there would not be a crack to her voice. She'd become much stronger than she was before, and she'd also come to accept what she was, who she was. ?Then there's me, a little runt who doesn't like to fight, is nice to everyone, not nearly as eloquently speaking as the rest of the family, and I'm cute at best.? She muttered, still not a tear to be found in her eyes. Why bother? What would crying accomplish anyways? After this, her father would pity her enough for the both of them. Then there would come a harsh smile, sharp and so very out of place on her cherubic features. Always she was smiling, but almost never were they full of such ridicule. ?And yet, you took me in after my own siblings disowned me. You took me in again after I abandoned the pack to look after Taurig, and now you're telling me you actually managed to miss me? After all that trouble I made, you wondered where I was while you were ill? Most parents would have dumped me and been better off.? She muttered, her voice holding a tinge of something that sounded suspiciously like amusement. ?And yet, you didn't.? Her gaze had not broken away from her father's, she saw no point in all of that. The auburn furred she wolf didn't really fear much, and she knew very well her father's wrath when she crossed a line. She more or less knew what could come, but she didn't really feel the need to be afraid. Then, one alabaster brow would rise quizzically. A small smile would come to cross her features now, despite everything she'd admitted just now. ?So how could I ever lose faith in you?? She replied, the familiar sarcastic lilt to her tone. The great king should have known better, since she'd loved him so much all this time. When she'd reunited with her siblings after her journey here, the whole reason they'd disowned her was because she refused to believe their father was a bad man. She had seen a bad side of him, that she would admit, but he was not wholeheartedly evil. She knew he loved her, and while, yes, blinding and castrating her eldest brother had been quite the horror show, she had returned to him in the end. Not having a father for the first year of your life tends to make you crave their presence all the more when you find them. ?Speech?

She is unusual to his other spawn; she holds a fragility, a delicacy that almost seems prone to fracture at even the lightest of feather-weight abuse. Though she is not a warrior as the pale King sought his progeny to be, she is fierce in her own way, a firecracker in disguise. The genetic makeup that encouraged battle upon the Armada?s had proven to be absent within the dainty confines of her tapered skull, and though he would never understand why a soul would hope for survival without the instinctive desire to shed blood, he cares genuinely for her all the same. Velvet lips will spin the words of her truth; not what he had expected to hear, but what he had hoped for. Family was what had made Isardis? success what it had been, and what it was to be, and regardless of her differences the pallid King wanted her as much as much as any other, in this moment, perhaps he craved her relations even more so. She intrigues him, she is wholly wonderful, ?I will not lose belief in you, my masked splendour; I should hope only for the same,? he breathes a frigid sigh of release, features softening with an effortlessness as he dares to ease the tension; coral toes tracing forwards as he attempts to find her contact, to seal their reunion in a tenderly woven embrace. Perhaps she is truly home?