(SE) thought i had nothing to lose

There’s a bright grin that’s sent her way, something boyish and playful in it as she agrees. And perhaps when she’s older she’ll understand the reasoning for it. For now, though, she’s too young to fully see what goes on, especially in a place like Torchline where justice and judgement seemed to be on wavering lengths, overlapping and sometimes drifting too far from one another.

Such was life in Torchline, though. Such was their life, given that she was his daughter, and unfortunately for the beautiful starchild, she harbors his name and his genes, and likely the realization later on of all the mistakes he’s made.

For now, though, he’s shifting into his favorite shift – not telling her what it is before he does – and he stands there before her briefly as his panther shift. Sleek dark fur with deep copper rosettes within that can be seen when the light hits it just right. He steps forward, pressing his boxy head toward her that she takes between her hands – his ears perked forward and he flops down in the wet puddle, long tail sweeping over to line up against him as she holds his head and he nuzzles her. His whiskers twitch at the compliment, a paw rising to tug her into a feline hug as she tries to push him away.

And once he’s nuzzled in closer for the hug, he releases her completely – letting her do what she wished. And if she wanted to hitch a ride home on the back of a panther, well, he certainly wouldn’t complain.

He flops down into the puddle and the giggles don't seem to cease. She's a bit overwhelmed by the amazement she finds in just how different each of his shifts are. Even in comparison to his own natural form, it's strange to look at this panther and understand that it's her father. It's a feeling that's fleeting because he's pulling her in against him for a tighter squeeze, which reminds her that he's still the same person underneath all of this.

Riding home on the back of a panther is certainly a thought that graces her mind; the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and, for a moment, they're both on the same wavelength in that regard. Not that they'll ever know it, because she'd rather continue playing in puddles and seeing what sort of colors they can make from the spillt water. Her hand reaches out to touch his shoulder and coax him along, encouraging him to return to their game - and the many that follow after - before the sun begins to wane in the sky and night drifts in.

Not that the dark would ever scare her, and certainly not Sunjata either - tied to the stars as they are. They'd undoubtedly spend some time looking up at them before they go, Kamaria asking him what sorts of shapes he can see within them (a cat, maybe?).

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fin<3