Flora
Hotaru is as beautiful as she is warm, and in the future when the world grows darker and responsibilities cloud in, Flora will wish she had soaked up more of everything her mother had to offer. Just now though she sees only through the lens of her youth, and it's with slumped shoulders and a bit of a huff that she allows herself to be adored with a restless sort of tolerance.
"I...asked for help." Flora says softly, pressing her face into the crook of Hotaru's arm like some sort of boneless cat. "I think Ronin hates me. Me and Enzo, but me most of all. And Dad...well...we can never go over there, and it always feels like he's sneaking when he comes to see us, and.." Her explanation is as broken as the relationship between the Huntsman and his not-quite-step-daughter feels in Flora's mind. "I just don't know what I did. But If I knew I could fix it, and it could all be better."
"I...asked for help." Flora says softly, pressing her face into the crook of Hotaru's arm like some sort of boneless cat. "I think Ronin hates me. Me and Enzo, but me most of all. And Dad...well...we can never go over there, and it always feels like he's sneaking when he comes to see us, and.." Her explanation is as broken as the relationship between the Huntsman and his not-quite-step-daughter feels in Flora's mind. "I just don't know what I did. But If I knew I could fix it, and it could all be better."
