private [ ... ] just an anchor

[Keona.]

[div style="width: 527px; line-height: 1.4; text-align: justify; font-family: palatino; font-size: 11px;"][align=center]— blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly —

The child gasped softly, losing her balance just as intended, eyes widening for a brief second in surprise.  Before she hit the ground she felt teeth carefully catch her.  There'd always been someone to catch her, hasn't there?  Keona blinked, checks burning furiously.  She flexed her claws silently but said nothing, head bowed.  Stupid. She should not have expected to actually land a hit.  He was still faster than her.  Besides, you don't actually want to hurt him.  No.  He was still family, even she was upset with them.

"… No you don't," she muttered, shifting on his paws.  All talons, not... Claws.  She wondered if she'd ever learn to shift like him -- Kian could too, she thinks, and so can Raziel -- and if she'd ever end up in such a strange form.  Yet his fur is soft and she does not really want to jump off his paws.  "You had a mom." They all did.  She didn't know much about her grandmother... Or anything, really, save that she'd died a long time ago, but she knew that she'd raised them.  She'd been there.

Keona raises her chin up, eyes flickering.  Share me?  That made sense, actually, when she thought about it.  Seamus had always seemed a little possessive, but so was his brother, whom until now had been her undisputed father.  She had always gotten the sense he'd been there from the day he arrived in the Typhoon, watching, keeping an eye on her even before they even got close.

She narrows her eyes into a fierce glare, directed back down at her own paws.  It isn't fair.  She agrees wholeheartedly.  But maybe she'd been looking at it wrong.  The Pitt had certainly taught her life wasn't very kind.  The number of children running around with only one parent, just like she had been before now... That had to say something about fair.  Yet she couldn't help but fume at the change.  She didn't want her little family to change.

Yet it had.

So she sniffed once more, softly, then buried her face in his fur. "I... I don't want to anymore," she whispered, muffled.  "Can you tell me about mom?"  The tiny fae had grown wary of ever asking.  Her father, Kian, had always grown morose and quiet when she brought her up.  He'd loved her so much, and Keona had hated the way he grew so terribly sad.  She couldn't bare it, not well enough to keep asking. 

✯ — keona sibéal ó faoláin. female. striker of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.