Hushed Willows you're my devil, you're my angel

not for the first time, amara felt the heat of a glare unlike she had felt from another, once more; from her own son. it was a replica of the gaze she had bestowed upon them at their birth, full of loath and resentment; enough to cause her hinds to quiver and her ears to drop. could she apologize for interrupting, for coming the closest she had to caring? unable to form the words under the gaze she felt from kavos, the woman stuttered. "o-okay, t-that's okay," the words from tambourine passed her ears, only speaking to reassure the child she would cease to interfeer. timid steps, unlike her interrupting attitude, she began to retreat away from the child and his friend, mumbling only assurances that their interaction was not forbidden, masking the plea to keep kavos away from her as long as possible. "y-yes yes, okay,"

she ran once more.