"What's better than smiling? Being dead or anythin' else."

Weary glance. Left, and right. Phew. All clear.

. . . . Oh? Blink. Blink. "Do you . . . need something?"

Twirling a leaf between her fingers. Inhale . . . and . . . exhale. Being neutral is fun and all, until you start to long for company. Then again, You can't trust anyone.

That's alright. She'd rather drop dead than be around ( him ).

He has ( no ) right to even think about her mother. He left them. He was supposed to come back for her. He ( promised ).

His regret is too little, too late. Perhaps she would be more forgiving, had he found her and rescued her from the Star. But . . . now? Look at him. Look at who he has become. She loved her father, not the Nightmare King.

Doesn't he get it? What she wants-- wanted -- more than anything, was to get back what little family she had left. She misses him dearly. Painfully so. Her eyes never want to lay sight on him again. Her mind wishes to forget. But her heart? It disagrees.

// i died a little bit when i wrote that

Swirling a small cloud through her fingertips. Good morning, world. She's back.

. . . She-- but . . . Emily ( saw ) her. She watched her mother die. Surely, it can't be--,

Emily felt torn between running to throw her arms around her mother, and retreating into herself-- fleeing away from the endless sense of betrayal. "How could you hide away for so long? I cried for you. I mourned!" First, her father didn't seek her out. Now, her mother.

Her emotions are in a fragile state. Do not be surprised if a storm blows into town.

"Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves," A half-hearted side comment, eyeing a rather large tree. Maybe she'll climb it.

Okay, bedtime. . . . Quick peek under her bed and in the closet. Just in case. She doesn't trust anyone, anymore.

"Every leaf speaks bliss to me," Cue a faint smile-- fingers grazing rough, damp bark. ". . fluttering from the autumn tree."

She could get used to this whole "earthly" lifestyle.

. . . Do you think it's too late to seek comfort in her mother's arms?

One hesitant step forward, quickly followed by a few rushed stumbles until slender arms wrapped securely around the nape of her mother's neck. Emily hadn't forgiven. Not yet. But . . . she desperately longed for a family, once again.