Whitefish River our arms will bandage.

Dated 7/20. Repost-ish

Could’ve been a better mother. 

If she’d begrudgingly gone with Diasporan creed, then her children might’ve been safe; Dragomir wouldn’t have ever become lost to her, nor would Isilmë have become so enraged; they could’ve remained for as long as they dared, before the pup’s nightly father returned to whisk them all away. 

Should’ve been a better mother.

If she hadn’t torn her children from the only home they’d, at present, ever known, then perhaps they might’ve been content to wait some longer for the father to return, and ...perhaps not. Perhaps her own frustrations might have brewed still, and perhaps she might have stood against Stigmata’s ideals all the same — in all her misunderstandings and impulsive indigence. 

I shouldn’t be a mother.
To bring them into this world, only to leave them in the paws of others to satiate her own wanderlust, her own sacrificial atonements—

But I must be.

She must be a mother, no matter how much she blamed herself for the present state of things; no matter how much her absent-minded actions had most surely brought about this disaster; no matter how much her fury and self-loathing coalesced into something aversive and hideous and made her ashamedsince it wasn’t her life at stake.

With hushedness from their post by the river, the silver portended to her lightning daughter: “Your father is ze blood that runs through my veins. Your brother is ze heart that thunders in my breast. And you, Isilmë... you are ze light of my life that guides my way. There is no way I can undo all of the foolishness that I’ve done, but... nothing on this earth or in ze heavens will ever change my love for my family. For you.”

A wearied, wisping sigh of, ”Not even if you hold me in contempt. All I can truly do is... apologize, Isi, and then begin to right my wrongs from this day onward.”

@Isilmë