It was with a heavy heart that she sought out her daughter, perhaps one soul that might not hate her, though her own mother had fallen apart when her daughter, nearly an adult, might have needed her most. Though she felt she had somehow recovered from all the pain that winter had unleashed, she had yet to pull together the courage that required facing her mistakes. And yet she could face Hypatia now, even if her darling girl despised her. Ignoring a gnawing hunger within her swelling stomach, she wandered through the magnolia trees, life slowly beginning to appear along their branches again, and called out for the girl, "Hypatia?" She called out, ears folding back against her head as she resisted the urge to sniff out, and then hunt, the girl. Borlla hoped that she would come willingly.
Beneath a crooked Magnolia tree that was neither very large nor paticularly small was the dark, golden girl. Her silver mask did not seem peaceful, but neither was it painful. The only child of Borlla and Phineas was trying to recover. It was in the Glen she sought a remedy. Her bright, orange eyes were raking over the thick branches of her timber guardian, finding each new,little bud. It was mind boggling to think they would soon be in bloom with vivid, pink flowers. Strange the trees could act as if there had been no bitter winter. It made her wonder how hard it would be to do the same. Hypatia was sure she would never be a blank slate. That had been last spring. This one she was going to be a yearling, counted as a young adult. The thought scared her because she didn't really understand what that meant. She still felt too small, too unsteady in life.
There she sat for such a long time, contemplating,she didn't notice how her toes had began to tingle or the discomfort in her haunch. It wasn't until a gentle voice called her name did the girl move. Between a daze and rush she attempted to scramble upward. A small whine released with the strange numbness in her paws, but she forced her weight upon them, hurrying to reach her mother. Why she did not sense anything wrong, it had been awhile since anything had felt right. If Borlla needed her she wanted to answer right away.
"Mom?" The more blood that pumped through her limbs, the more normal her movement became. She looked this way and that while weaving along the short grass that was attempting to green. "Mom?" She voiced, more urgently, but spotted the pale figure. A brief wag of her tail she held herself from running up to her. Hypatia hadn't exactly done anything wrong lately, but kept a guarded expression very uncertain if there was something to her mother's beckoning.
The collected face she wore easily began to crack in tiny pieces. Concern crinkling her brows, a frown turning the corners of her lips, questions altering her eyes. This was a sudden side of Borlla she hadn't seen. Even when she had been in severe pain how well her mother had hidden that. This weakness, it made Hyp realize she should have sought her out sooner. She sounded like she was worried about being rejected, hated by her only daughter. So the girl wondered, had she done something to cause this? She understood now, better than she had why they had been told certain things. Stay in the Glen. Things that bite, and hurt. Strangerss. All Hyp could do was stare, holding onto her mother's yellow eyes trying to find answers. Borlla didn't leave a gap between them, and Hypatia leaned into the familiar white shoulder. It didn't quite feel as safe, secure as it had in the past. It was solid, and of some comfort.
The tanwy girl held no malice nor hatetred toward her mother. Even Phineas as uncertain as she was about what he had done, she didn't either. She didn't blame them for what happened to Kyros or herself. She had made the mistake. Kyros... he had been taken from all of them. Much she wanted to say these things, her throat felt like ice, cold and frozen. Hesitantly, she licked her mother's chin, sweeping her nose along her jaw as she had done what seemed like a thousand times. Though today she realized again how she was hardly that small child any more. A long moment she only stood, leaning against the Glen leader, hoping it was worth something. "I know mom," she murmured into the fringe of white. "I'm here." Was that proof Borlla was more than she felt?
Borlla had done many unforgivable things in her lifetime and would likely do many more. But...If she was irredeemable in her eyes of her own child, where was hope? Borlla was an adult...No matter how strong her grief had been, she'd had responsibilities to her family and her pack, and she had shunned them. Worse, she'd spat on them at times. All she could do now was hope that she'd be allowed to fix what she'd broken, to move forward and learn. "I just want to know what you're thinking...How you are." It hurt to speak those words. They were the sort of things that shouldn't be said, because she ought to have already known! But she tried to push back her accursed arrogance and embarrassment for the young woman before her.