Neverwinter Forest and what love we get, we have to pay for

arturo recognizes her right away. this time, when the witchdoctor receded back to whatever hellish hole he'd crawled out of he'd left the gangster with all of his memories and even though she was no longer the infant he remembered she still looked like herself, and still smelled like hemlock and her siblings. regardless of his time away, the memory of their scents were not something lost to him. she stalks up to him, brazen and unafraid and the fearghal monarch feels something seize up in his chest as he contemplates the odds of the chances that he would happen to stumble across his youngest daughter? er, well, rather she would stomp up to him. he does not ask her in the softened, choked voice that he knew would come from betwixt his lips if she remembered him because he knows she does not. it guts him to his core that his own daughter looks at him but does not recognize him. does not see herself in his features.

he contemplates not telling her. it's a very real consideration in his mind as he visibly hesitates. there is a part of him that considers that hemlock and the children might be better off without him, that his return might cause complications. "i am," arturo takes a deep breath and offers a tight twitch of his lips, weighed to one side of his own internal war. "i'm your father, reed. i am arturo. arturo fearghal." calling himself her 'father' seemed a bit unfair. it's not as if he's done anything to earn that title to her or her brother but regardless she is of his loins and if nothing else he is, biologically, her father.

arturo likes to assume he was not a coward and he holds tightly to this assumption of his own self character as he awaits, with baited breath, for his youngest daughter's reaction to his words.