Sleepy Fox Hollow brimming and broken and somehow

she, too, thought of stag.
and as always, thade. 

rarely were they far from her mind, but as father and daughter talked of love, it was only certain that their faces should appear in her mind. after all, it was the most potent form of love her imagination could conjure -- the lorn affection she had for her brothers. 

phaedra held her father's stare for a long moment, trusting him and his word with every fiber of her being -- if not only because it was what she wanted to hear. 

"even though it sometimes... hurts," she broke his gaze, pinning her focus to a point in the distance. "a lot," she exhaled, shakiness corresponding to her grief. her eyes no longer cried, but her heart did.

her foray into love had hurt her terribly. 

to say nothing of romantic notions or futuritial nonsuch.