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She was quiet for a little bit, but with fire in her voice she condemned him for his choices. Njal knew that leaving was not an option any longer; even if it was to suss out the whereabouts of his children, if they were still alive, he could not leave her. Without a mother, Maera only had himself. It didn't matter how many members of their pack - their extended family - were present to do the job. It was his responsibility, and he had left her for too long already.
I want every day, Daddy.
Maera cried out, and for a moment as she looked up at his filigree-gaze, he felt his own spirit sagging. There was no argument coming to his lips because she was right. They were both tired and they both needed one another. Leaving was not an option. Then every day you will have. I promise, I will not leave you.
But what if he could not hold true to that promise? What if, one day, he found evidence of his other children and had to leave - even for a moment? He shook the thoughts out of his mind and sank to the den floor, curling himself around Maera's tiny body. It is good to be home, my little огонь ошибка. My lovely princess.
Perhaps that was a lie as well. He didn't feel right. It wasn't right, that any of the Sveijarn kids were without him. That Tuwawi was absent, that Maera was alone. His guilt manifested within his heart, spoiling it with a pinprick of black which would only grow as the bitterness took hold. Maera was his light now, and she would have to be enough.