Hushed Willows for he has cast down leviathan, the tyrant, and the horse and rider

there came a dash of silver and grey and her mother was before her, out of breath and seemingly having run all the way here. the grin on her face had cassiopeia's own muzzle curve, her tail waft at her hocks as she moved at once to meet her mother, gaze moving all over her to take in as much as she could. her mother seemed to have aged not from when last they'd been together, sylph-like still. "mother," she answers, and the word is lined with gladness at seeing her finally. 

she returned the kiss, drawing in the scent of her mother's fur. she knows her mother's gladness is sincere, and she too is happy to feel her embrace. but still there is a timer ticking in the back of her wind, a warning that she should not, can not, stay long. she doesn't belong here. perhaps it is some crumb of her father's violent words that she'd absorbed, the knowledge that his death marks her forever as kinslayer, but she has no place in her mother's sanctuary. "I should have come earlier - I met your brother, Cortez, some time ago." he'd been the first to solidify the thought that she ought to come, but it had been the drastic shift with Vaati that had afforded her the heart to see through that desire. 

she hums a note, she eager to ignore the ticking and live in this contentness. "I wanted to see you." besides that base desire, she harbours no other motive in coming. she wants to know her mother is well, her family thrives. she desires it, for all she'd gone through with Dakarai, her strength. juxtaposed against her father, Olive is all that is good.