Sun Mote Copse from the heart

Weejay had been holding it together enough -- up until she felt her father's touch along her shoulder. It had been made in affection, but for some reason, Weejay felt her blood run cold  -- because that touch had been all that was needed to open the dams to her true feelings, the ones she buried by indefatiguable optimism and cheery masquerades.

She kept her head stiff, looking away so her father might not see the tears that welled there. Collect yourself, idiot, she admonished inwardly. Dragging in a deep breath to steady her nerves, Weejay tried on a smile that felt all too fake. "It'd be nice, like you said! And we could show him the plants and berries I found that don't die in the winter." She was hopeful -- too hopeful - that this would change her father's mind.. but Weejay had yet to truly understand that adults were often more entrenched in their ways than even trees were - and it took tremendous uprooting to change their minds.