Arrow Lake daddy ain't at home, no

The weight of her grief was too heavy for her to wield; slowly, she understood the permanence of death. 

River's presence at Stigmata's gravesite had been constant, and grief bound her to where she laid. She was at his side, her nose touching the soil, and her glossy eyes pointed skyward; her thoughts were an addled blur, an irritant. She was sad and mad—never had she felt such a mix of emotions. River craved normalcy, but there was nothing she could do to fix the situation—her father was dead, and everything was worse now.

hope you don't mind me & pri!

praimfaya doesn't avoid the general's gravesite but she doesn't necessarily seek it out either per se. she lets the grieving family grieve their loss in peace for she can offer them no empathy ...only sympathy. fortunately, she has never lost any that she loves but the thought that it could have been ingram or blodreina has her breath seizing in her throat. she couldn't imagine — and wonders if this is why her path as commander meant she had to be alone. was this — this grief and sorrow — what linkoln was warning her from?

she tucks such thoughts away as she nears the place where stigmata had last stood and where he'd fallen. where he was buried beneath a basilisk sized mound of freshly packed earth. tucked gently betwixt her jaws is a bunch of brightly colored wildflowers plucked from wapun meadow ( beneath @Blodreina's hawkish gaze ). praimfaya's pace slows upon her approach as she realizes that there is another here, the girl's nose touching the soil. praimfaya recognizes her as one of the basilisk's youngest children, and unlike his older cubs priamfaya is not as familiar with ketzia's brood.

she hesitates, wondering if she should return later but trudges forward. hei, she greets in trigedasleng after she sits them down at her paws a few feet away, her tone soft, fearing to put any real volume behind her words. could the dead be disturbed? i...don't really know any customs, praimfaya began, thinking that other than the words she and blodreina uttered over his fallen body that they honored their dead in a different way. i brought some flowers for him. praimfaya tells the girl, gesturing to them with a paw. may i put them on his grave? she asks, seeking permission before approaching.

Not at all! Sorry for the delay!

 
"Hi," River mumbled in reply, her head lifting in tandem with Praimfaya's approach. Despite the unfamiliarity she felt towards the other child, the gesture was appreciated; the wildflowers were beautiful. "Yeah, they're pretty" River answered, glancing at the bouquet.

the younger girl mumbles a reply and praimfaya accepts it with a small, mournful smile, grateful that she has at least gotten a response. easily, the younger girl could've ignored her or sent her away. it would've been her right, praimfaya thinks. though the wanheda mourns the basilisk she does not claim to have known him on a very personal level ...and she was a far cry from mourning him as his children no doubt did. they would feel his absence most keenly in a way she hopes she will not come to understand for a long time yet.

a small sway of her tail is given as permission is granted and praimfaya slowly approaches the fresh mound and places them on the rotund cusp of earth. once done, praimfaya retreats to give the gravesite and the mourning daughter space. i'm praimfaya, by the way, she offers as she settles upon her haunches, wondering if perhaps she should've started with her name before asking for permission to give her colorful offering to the basilisk's grave.

Praimfaya was a name unlike any River had heard previously, and her head tilted as she attempted to articulate the mouthful of a name. "Pra—imfayuh?" she attempted, her distress momentarily foregone in the attempt to master the other's title. A little more certain, River affixed another effort, "Praimfa—yuh. Hi." 

"I'm River," she introduced after a pause, and then motioned to the cave in the background, "I live over there with my brothers and mom."  

"Do you live nearby?" she asked.

praimfaya offers river a sheepish grin as the other girl tries to say her name — it's easy for her to take advantage of how easily she can say it, both as her own name and being trigedasleng — and until this moment it's never crossed her mind that anyone would struggle to pronounce it. you can call me pri, if its easier. praimfaya offers with a soft churr of a chuckle. in truth, she's always preferred the full version of her name but there was little sense in letting anyone struggle with it and she didn't really mind being called 'pri'.

it's nice to meet you, river, praimfaya replies when the other girl offers her, her name in return. a glimpse is spared in the cave's direction when the girl motions to it and praimfaya gives her an acknowledging nod of her head before her frostbound silver gaze falls back upon river. somewhat, we don't really have a den anymore. so we just sleep wherever. praimfaya doesn't share her mother's claustrophobia, nor does she really understand it per se but she isn't opposed to sleeping beneath the stars ( unless, y'know it's raining or something ).