Silvertip Mountain you're beside me, breathing so loud

Was it true? Was her daughter here, twisting into Olive’s downy form [and Olive into she] or was this yet another cruel tricks of the gods? It was not fair how the gods took things from her so easily, as if she was one of their playthings to punish and mould into something more devout. Oh, those gods, they took far more than they gave — and they did seem to focus on she far more than anyone else — so for a moment, she refused to believe it. Why would they ever give her a gift so generous as her daughter — why play into their cruelties by holding onto hope? It was far more painful

— and where had hope ever gotten her, anyways? 

As much as the sylph felt she needed to steel herself, to protect herself against the pain that always seemed to follow the periods of happiness, it was undeniable how her entire vibrate rose in the presence of Cassiopeia. It was a bond between a mother and child that not even the greatest of distances could sever, nor that the gods could deny; the reason she would happily give her life for any of her children, no matter how long it had been, no matter what evils they committed, from the moment they were born until the end of time. It was her duty, a mother’s love and devotion, and it was a duty that she would gladly fulfill if any of them would just stay put.

The star-speckled girl with her mother’s jade eyes, she was different. Of all her children, she and Cassiopeia had the closest bond — at least, that’s what Olive thought. There was a darkness to Aries that she had never been able to understand and poor Sirius, well, he never got the chance. But even Olive, with her tendency to romanticize things, could not deny her shortcomings as a mother in those weeks following Aries and Dakarai’s separate-but-equal disappearances. Forced to raise herself, with a mother too melancholy to rouse for the simplest of tasks; perhaps it was not a surprise that her daughter had left. 

But, she was here now. 

Cass spoke in a voice composed entirely of whispers. The ash and bone woman pulled the feeble girl into her chest, wrapping her twiggy forelimbs around her as if she was a cub and not a fully-grown woman, as big [or bigger!] than she was. Olive cooed as she nuzzled her daughter and planted kisses upon her face and nose; her own rosy tongue flicking out to removing the snow the second it settled upon her daughter’s beautiful head. “There are no failures in life.” she spoke softly, almost as if this was a fact and not an idea that had manifested in her mind at that very moment. “only lessons.” It was true, for did they not both learn some dark universal truths while in their solitudes, subsequently restoring karmic balance and allowing mother and daughter to unite once more? Suddenly, it all made sense, it was all so clear she could see right through it to the other side — these moments of crystal clarity were the moments worth living for, though Olive doubted anyone would ever see if from her perspective. How ever could they?

Biting her lip, Olive regarded her kin closely and the words fell from a somber mouth. “Stardust,” she began. “you’re so cold…” and resumed her fervent licking, trying to spread and share the warmth between them. Oh, how close she felt to her child! For as worried she was for Cassiopeia's health, Olive was just brimming with happiness for having found her daughter and for being given to chance to know her once more. It was a beautiful thing.