Blackfeather Woods Am I still your daughter?

The closeness of his children was something that he’d always secretly hoped to someday see, even if his external display of hope had dwindled long ago. Although it bothered him to know that he had been partially to blame for the wedge driven between his children, he’d tried not to think about it too much. It was nothing but a past issue now, given that they’d found a way to get passed that enough to speak. And, in his own way, he’d gotten passed the issue, too. Whilst he still resented the fact that Scarlett had taken his daughters from him, had kept him from watching them grow up, he’d realized that he’d needed to let it go. She was gone now, and hating her for a choice she’d made whilst alive would only push his daughter farther and farther away from him. So, for her, he’d tried to looked passed it all, and had at last started to heal properly.

Desna shared more of her achievements, each of which made the Inuk’s smile widen. “You’ve done a lot,” he’d commented, happy for her and the fact that she’d felt comfortable enough to share everything with him. Whether or not she’d been boasting, he hadn’t noticed, but it wouldn’t have mattered either way; he’d rather her brag about her accomplishments than feel as if she couldn’t tell him about them. “Your pack’s lucky to have you,” the man added, and he meant it. There would always be a large piece of him that wanted her to stay within the woods and live alongside him, but he’d started to accept that that would never happen. And instead of getting angry over what he could not have, he allowed for himself to feel happy for her and what she’d obtained for herself. A home, followers, and even a family—the latter was something he would need to work towards getting used to, but, for the sake of mending what he’d already broken several times in the past, he would try.

As her motherhood was talked about, he’d listened. Two children for her to look after and care for, having been left behind by a refugee. The name had made his expression harden and he’d shaken his head, cursing under his breath. “Nemesis’ sister,” he’d said, though he’d not been asked. The girl had fled from the woods with her children in tow, but to think that she’d been killed for doing so bothered him. Had she not been a mother, he wouldn’t have cared, but the fact that children had been left behind because of her death disturbed him. “I’m sure you’ll raise them right,” was all he’d said then. The reason for the mother’s death was not something that he wished to get into, disinterested in taking their conversation down a dark road. The news was, however, stored away within his mind, for it’d opened his eyes up to the truth of his wife and just how awful she could be; surely, being in her position, the fact that her sister had been killed would not have slipped passed her ears.

The information regarding the man’s previous life had not, it seemed, sat well with his son. He’d watched the child turn and take his leave, frowning all the while, but hadn’t bothered with calling out to him. Rather, he’d refocused his attention on Desna and said, “He’s not right, but I’m sure he’ll come around eventually.” He hoped so, anyways.