Weaver
Time is the substance from which I am made.
Time is a river which carries me along,
but I am the river;
Time is a river which carries me along,
but I am the river;
Weaver is not disappointed, and simply nods as Seren says she would like to stop for now. There is no reason to push the child, no looming threat that would require her to learn to protect herself immediately. Some part of Weaver suspects her mother will keep her safe enough, particularly now, though she cannot be sure if that’s how this works. Still, isn’t that what any mother would do? So it seems likely, particularly since it should be easier for a goddess.
As Seren lifts her arms out to Weaver, Weaver catches her and sweeps her off her feet. It is so easy, and strangely natural, to pull little Seren in for a hug and press her close. Not unlike what she has done for Korbin many times (though when he was younger, and less often now), and she nestles her face next to Seren’s plump cheek.
”You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says, pulling her head back a bit to meet the girls sweet blue eyes. ”I told you to. And besides, I grew up with an older brother who punched me with far less reason than I gave you today.” Weaver chuckles at the memories that come back, of all the times Erebor would simply throw the first punch and tell her it was ‘training’. And it was, but often, it was just fun. "I have been sparring all my life, and I enjoy it. Though a true fight is very different than a spar." Though Weaver thinks that Seren may be beginning to understand that.
As Seren lifts her arms out to Weaver, Weaver catches her and sweeps her off her feet. It is so easy, and strangely natural, to pull little Seren in for a hug and press her close. Not unlike what she has done for Korbin many times (though when he was younger, and less often now), and she nestles her face next to Seren’s plump cheek.
”You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says, pulling her head back a bit to meet the girls sweet blue eyes. ”I told you to. And besides, I grew up with an older brother who punched me with far less reason than I gave you today.” Weaver chuckles at the memories that come back, of all the times Erebor would simply throw the first punch and tell her it was ‘training’. And it was, but often, it was just fun. "I have been sparring all my life, and I enjoy it. Though a true fight is very different than a spar." Though Weaver thinks that Seren may be beginning to understand that.
it is a tiger that devours me, but I am the tiger;
it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.
it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.
