Altar of Twilight thinking of you is a poison i drink often

Ah, f a m i  l y.

The subject had never meant anything significant to the sylph, at least not in the sense of blood-ties. Her mother had reared her and any other whelps she might have birthed with the sole purpose of them surviving the wilds on their own by the time they came of age.

There had been little loved shared between them, so when the time came for Solaris to leave the metaphorical nest, the first step into the unfamiliar world had been remarkably easy.

"Do you want me to?", she asks with an arch of her brow as she turns to meet his glance, a playful yet sincere curiosity dancing in her mismatched eyes.