you are such a soft and messy thing, nobody knows how to take care of you
Though she knows the Fae live long lives far beyond her own, Juniper strikes her as particularly young at heart, tender and kind in a way Hotaru both envies and flinches away from. It is both a balm to her tired soul and a burning sensation that lingers in the wake of it, unsettling the bones of wrought iron and spine crafted from ligaments wrapped around bone harvested from those she'd felled over the years. A dark, toothy thing inside hissing at the implication that she alone is not capable of protecting, loving, rearing. Still - it is not enough to remove from her the deference one must adopt when speaking to a woman with power like Juniper has. Hotaru's control is far too impeccable, even brought low as she is. "Yes and no. Remi is involved in their lives, and will be forever, but we are not in any way together as most are accustomed to. But the others I had who I might have relied upon...I do not know if they made it from Halo safely." And here gorge rises in her throat, a reflex from revealing any kind of weakness, and from the terror that still consumes her as the days continue without word.
Except Juniper has word, and Hotaru spins as much as she can to face her, a dark sort of desperation in the shadows that play across her pretty face. "He came to you? He and Deimos - they live? Are they well?" Harmed in any way? If not, then it is merely a matter of time before they find one another. She is sure of it. She must be, if she is to keep hold of the will that keeps her standing these days.
Except Juniper has word, and Hotaru spins as much as she can to face her, a dark sort of desperation in the shadows that play across her pretty face. "He came to you? He and Deimos - they live? Are they well?" Harmed in any way? If not, then it is merely a matter of time before they find one another. She is sure of it. She must be, if she is to keep hold of the will that keeps her standing these days.
