thumbing through the worn pages of a treasury of fairytales. black oil eyes trace the familiar pages while a bemused smile curves the corners of her soft mouth.

"angharad, may i listen?" her dark eyes are practically sparkling in wonder.

ever so delicately tucks her hair away, presses her ear to pale linen and skin, closes her eyes. "i hear something," she whispers. water; the giver of life. cheedo thinks this may have been what miss giddy described as an "ocean" sounded like.

the younger can't help but linger and rest there, listening intently with each breath. "no, their mother is much too smart and kind. i'm sure they'll be the same." opening her eyes slowly, she smiles up at angharad with a rare brilliance that belies her shy nature.

she settles as angharad tucks her hair back like a mother. at least, cheedo thinks she vaguely remembers receiving this kind of affection when she was small. she thinks of the dag in the next moment, her expression becoming more pensive. "i hope they always tell the truth."

those words inspire like nothing else; tinge her cheeks apple red. the girl looks up at her then, sits up slowly from her lap, black eyes half-bright with unshed tears. she holds her gaze, steadily as she ever has. "do you really believe that, angharad?"

content in her loose embrace; leaning against her softly. blonde hair tickles her nose, but she ignores the urge to sneeze.