[she wouldn't have told him. she hasn't told anyone--sandman might know a little, but they were from the same place, more or less. he'd seen pitch black at his worst, even if the memories might be fuzzy for the little dreamweaver.
mother nature knew it all. how could she not?
she wants to be outside, under the sky filled with birds and light and life, things that she knows and understands. she doesn't understand why, after all this time, her father is alive.
the snow melts away under her bare feet, spring flowers blooming in her wake, feeding off her energy. she kneels, uncaring of the mud--she's been covered in worse--and digging her fingers in, feeling the steadiness of the earth under her nails instead of the cacophony of questions in her head.]
no subject
mother nature knew it all. how could she not?
she wants to be outside, under the sky filled with birds and light and life, things that she knows and understands. she doesn't understand why, after all this time, her father is alive.
the snow melts away under her bare feet, spring flowers blooming in her wake, feeding off her energy. she kneels, uncaring of the mud--she's been covered in worse--and digging her fingers in, feeling the steadiness of the earth under her nails instead of the cacophony of questions in her head.]