Lost Creek Hollow wish we'd grown up on the same advice

Junior Scimitar did indeed feel neglected, but Rannoch wasn't entirely to blame for his daughter's self-imposed distance. Deshyr had a mind of her own and it was quite an opinionated one. She had faced the disillusionment of how strong her Zeusian father truly was—seeing him now as the fallible and temporarily fragile creature that he had become—and it left her feeling uncertain of everything. Even about how much she loved her father.

How could she love someone and feel this disappointed by them?

She didn't understand yet that it was because she loved him, that she felt so affected, and she was pondering running away again when she heard Rannoch's hobbled approach coming from behind her. Her concerns melted briefly as she saw him, her features perking up and bushy tail lifting into a happy wag as she welcomed his presence. But her eyes fell to his legs as he moved with his newly restricted gait,  and she could feel her expression crumpling like paper in the fists of a child. Ashamed, she turned her face away and lowered her tail.