@confluenced
Pretenses work as far as one believes. Others don’t go around, thinking and mourning for lost childhood, others do and in like everything, differences clash. She tries very hard to not think of those lonely years in the deeprealm, it had been peaceful and the adequate place to raise a child — but it hadn’t been without its flaws and limitations. Some grew too quickly, a few were reached in time to stop becoming adults; the cases are unique, no matter what. As for herself, she doesn’t blame her parents for the decisions made, it’s just not easy to accept growing up with strangers.
An entire generation robbed of a childhood shared with parents. The words sound from a fantasy novel — yet, ridiculous as it sounds, the truth is undeniable. Everyone has their way of coping with growing too fast and joining the army, more so the horrors of war. She can’t deny she never thinks of spending time with her parents or brother but the connection to the sky isn’t the same as with her mother’s element.
She likes to seek for any opportunity to spend with her, her dear mother, an ethereal silhouette. It’s childish to admit it out loud but being next to her cheers her up, a reminder the little girl in her still exists and wishes to grow up at a slow pace. “—Mother? Am I interrupting you?”
