Stone Circle Young blood thinks there's always tomorrow

For a moment Reverie was quiet, thoughtful; she did know what she didn't want to be like, didn't she? Nothing like her own parents, for a certainty; their love had always taken the form of control, bound to strict expectations with the constant threat that if she did not meet them she would find herself cast aside, unloved, unwanted. But Reverie had found other examples, too, of what a parent was not meant to be. She did not want to be like Akavir, who hadn't been present for the birth of his own children. She did not want to be like Lestan, who had always kept a certain distance from Blossom even when he'd been there. Reverie had seen the love he held for her but she had seen, too, how Blossom was always more her daughter than theirs.

Not an absent or distant parent, then, but not smothering either. She was suddenly aware of the fine line she would have to walk, and suddenly overwhelmed by it all over again. But Gunnar hadn't said that it would be easy.

Thank you, Gunnar, She murmured softly, eyes warm. I guess I just - I'm overwhelmed by it. She - she depends on me for everything. And I don't mind it so much, but I - I can barely take care of myself sometimes! There's so much I don't know. How can I teach her about life and the world if I hardly know it myself? Gunnar seemed to know everything by now, old as he was; Reverie could not claim the same.