Noctisardor Bypass wore my language like an amaranth

so very briefly they were connected by a shade of lorn listlessness—albeit, both uniformed of the other's thrall to grief and shared long-suffering. 

in that small time the smile and mirth had dissipated from the planes of her face like a flock of crows spooked by buckshot. tungsten-dread. a glissading ache that limned her chest, tracing the blueprint of a mother-shaped hole in her heart.

but she didn't dare linger with the feeling— and by no means whatsoever did she bear the kind of courage it would take to address the weight it laid on her. 

even if she had courage in spades, phaedra wasn't even sure if she wanted to confide in him. not yet. maybe not ever.

what she dearly needed was a soft place to land, 
no questions asked; 
and if she knew her papa perhaps needed that too, it might've been easier to find words among the scree.

alas, the girl did not know what he might need. but she knew she was likewise embarrassed for the affect the birds had on her, and turned her cheek aside to rest violet eyes on the ground. his requisite press only-just compelling a smile half to life. 

until, that was, his offer registered in her mind. the dullness in her gaze had to flee to make room for bright surprise and joy that came barging in to replace it while she visibly fathomed the words—
"oh. it's a joke? it's not ... say sike right now!" was chirruped amidst an abrupt explosion of stotting and spinning on the balls of her feet to the front-and-center of her father's view; well and truly disturbing the peace of every other local within a mile radius of her thunder. 

"ich glaub mich knutscht ein eich! like, genuinely! when can we go‽" 

she would attempt, for him, to remain in one mood for longer than a minute.