far and away [★] deceit

[aine.]

[align=center]— aine | the pitt | fae druid —

Children created imaginary friends.  A fantastical game.  Secret companions for nonsensical adventures.  Aine hardly presented an exception.  Only her choice in imaginary friend presented an unfortunate complication.

Children dealt with grief strangely at times.  Naïve bemusement.  Complete and lack of belief.  In the case of the petite vixen... An imaginary friend.  At some point in time, the little druid became more and more aware of her mother and brother's... Absence in her life.  They burned away in the fire that took her home away from her.  The fire that brought her father and her to the Pitt.

Only, young and naïve, she failed to understand.  Simply, in her mind, they had just fallen behind.  One day her bright, hazel hues would find her brother, her mother, in their sights.  They were not gone for good.  Right.  Right?

Aine may seem bold to a few.  She seemed to care little if one were a stranger, she'd still go up to them.  Only, the child often did so out of the fear she may need to talk to them later, without knowing whom she was speaking to.  How rude would that be?  Other children, considering they were simply children with no rank, lacked the same... Importance, in a way.  As such, she struggled making friends.

Already quiet in voice and overall anxious in mind, Aine found herself with next to no friends within the Pitt's borders.  Ironically, on her one adventure outside of the Pitt, she had made a friend of a young pirate.  A secret friend, really.  She had not mentioned him to a single soul.  But since they lived so far away, she lacked any constant companionship.

Ever the energic child however, with a constant drive in her paws to move and explore and imagine, she created within her mind a companion at her side.  Her brother.  She remembered well, considering he looked so much like her, albeit with some of their father's darker colorations.  Alaire Antoine Ó Broin was her best friend, as a sibling often was.

He followed her to the garden, protected her in the jungle as she hunted for herbs, and altogether remained her best friend.  Only he didn't exist.  Not truly.  As the petite vixen sat in the central marketplace, watching the business around her, she noticed a pair of children playing on the outskirts, wrestling in the grass.  Siblings from their similar looks.  Suddenly, a frown overtook her often smiling face.

For even if she retained her playmate... It was hard to play with someone you couldn't touch.  The child failed to rectify that in her mind, brows beginning to crease.

— I'll come back when you call me —

[redvox.]

[gael]

♛

The sight of a frown on his daughter's face was more than enough to draw ire on Gael's own.  A pair hazel eyes glinted darkly, narrowed.  Suspicious of any potential culprit before trotting forwards.  Little else mattered in his life than Aine.  She remained the reason he attempted to make a place for somewhere supposedly 'strong', to ensure she grew up protected; more protected than the rest of their family.

Gael knew his daughter to be somewhat shy, although that never stopped her from approaching new faces.  He failed to comprehend how other children presented an even harder time communicating than such strangers, but Aine's mind was her own; something drew her away from other children.

He wore a dark look on his face, upon noticing the other children playing.  Had they been bullying Aine?  She rarely seemed so downcast, especially as of late, with the flourishing success of her garden.  Like Vox, the faerie possessed no qualms teaching them a lesson for such, but jumping to conclusions brought little good.

Gently, Gael aimed to gently nudge the girl, eyes growing distinctly warmer whenever they fixed on her.  Quietly, he sat beside her, brushing his fur against her side.  "Now what's happened, Lottie?" He voiced his own inquiry, brows creased in gentle concern.

// Mobile

"ISN'T IT LOVELY?" —-- gael ó broin / faerie / pittian / lamby

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[aine.]

[align=center]— aine | the pitt | fae druid —

Vox.  Vinny.  Oddly friendly newcomer, when thoughts pay a little extra attention.  Other matters typically took precedent however.  Hazel hues flashed, blinking in a somewhat dazed matter, the gears of her brain becoming stuck, struggling in vain to continue turning.  Uncertain, wheeling thoughts.

Gentle voice.  Soon he is accompanied by another.  Aine tilts her head up, gazing at her father for a moment, unblinking.  He had never confirmed nor denied her earliest assumptions of her mother and brother.  She felt oddly hesitant to question him.  Certainly, he would miss them too.

She bit the inside of her cheek, glancing once back towards the playing children.  Softly, she shuffled, dark paws over each other.  "'Toine an' I can't play... Like that, I mean." A relatively simple explanation.

No questions of fairness, or a great deal of complaint, simply... An admission of the facts.  Though they played, though he watched her back every venture... They could not scuffle on the ground like that or wrestle in the mud.  They used to.  Much to their parents' chagrin of course, ignoring all attempts to caution them from catching a cold in the rain.  But they used to.

— I'll come back when you call me —

[redvox.]

[gael]

♛

The nickname of his fallen son came as an immediate surprise to the vulpine to hear.  In surprise, the faerie froze for a moment, barely registering Vox's continued questioning. 'Toine remained the affectionate nickname of Antoine, the boy's middle name.  Gael inhaled sharply, shaking his head, trying to forget the ashes falling around his family's home.

"Lottie..." What was he supposed to say to make the child feel better?  Did she even fully understand the loss of her brother?  Gael rarely felt so out of his element, always attempting to stay one step ahead of everyone, prepared for every move.  He rarely found himself so startled and uncertain of his next response.

Eventually, Redvox breaks through his atypically spiraling mind.  "Antoine," he corrects tonelessly.  He offers no further explanation, unwilling to open up without just cause.  No Pittians needed to know more about his family than they already did -- that it was just him and Aine in the present.  No one deserved to possess such a playing card against him.

Dark paws move with force beneath him, steadying his stance.  "I know you miss him, Lottie.  It's okay to find others to play with though, a leanbh.  He'd want you to make new friends."

"ISN'T IT LOVELY?" —-- gael ó broin / faerie / pittian / lamby

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