Firefly Glen petals so pretty, roots too strong

nephele had not thought herself an inadequate mother. she'd not thought herself a perfect mother either, but a learning one. and in her inexperience, she'd not expected the complexity that came with growing children. they held far more emotions than what she could recall herself having at that age, and unlike adults whom she could give the cold shoulder to, she could not ignore the pressing needs of her own babes.

she was learning, but nobody had warned her that motherhood would be this much of a challenge.

zephyra was the first to arrive, puffed full of some vigor that nephele could not read. her lips parted to try and rouse some question to the girl's obvious ire, but no words formed on her tongue. lost on what to say, her mouth pressed back to the neat line it so usually held.

anatolia arrived shortly after in the company of a woman the stormcloud did not recognize. her gaze shifted between the two, an uncomfortable churning of some concealed sensation bubbling it's way forth. why exactly did her own child seem hesitant to approach?

did i do something wrong? are you ok? what's wrong? are you hurt? sick? did something happen? — a million words to ask, but no voice to let them be heard. instead she focused in on the other woman, "nephele," a quick introduction followed by an appreciative, "thank you for seeing her back safely."

two girls, but where was her boy? some deep maternal alarm rung out through the very core of her then, a glaze of panic washed over her. "your brother is not with you?" she asked while shifting her sight between her two daughters.

if he was not with either of his sisters, then where exactly was he?