Blackfeather Woods Am I still your daughter?

The innermost reaches of the territory had held the man’s attention that day, insisting that he stay near to them rather than loitering around the outskirts. As it was the will of the woods, he’d obeyed, following the peculiar feeling that had arisen within his stomach. He’d busied himself with simple tasks—many of which were of little importance—and kept his mind occupied, having turned and began trekking along his usual trails only after having heard a howl. The voice had been familiar to him, but only vaguely so at first; it’d taken a moment for the time spent apart to be worn away before he’d realized to whom the voice belonged. In spite of the sour aftertaste left behind by their previous meeting, his pace had been increased so that he’d reach the borders quicker, where he’d found then both his daughter and his son—one of his younger sons, that is.

Having heard no words exchanged between the two, he’d not hesitated before drawing closer, having looked first towards the boy and then Desna. And for as long as he’d thought about what he might say, he’d only managed to utter, “Desna,” before having fallen silent once more. He could no better read her now than when she was but a whelp, and so he’d glanced towards the youngest of the trio once more. “Atshen, say hello to your sister,” the Inuk had said, slowly reacquiring his voice. It was not long after that he’d directed his attention back towards their guest, asking, “How are you?” as he’d done so. Although they’d had a dispute in the past, he still cared for her just as much as any father would his child.