Had he been putting this day off? Maybe, though he could not quite understand why, if it was so. Children — at least, his own — were something he cherished, treasured.. and two childhoods he had been robbed of, prevented from witnessing. Psyche had stolen Snö from it, although she had found her way back still young, only to turn away from him when Tamlin was born. And Tamlin.. he was back, at about the same age as Snö had been when she returned; Time, Asní, had stolen Mauja and thus, he had not been there for his child.

And now, his.. foolishness, had almost robbed him of his third. Too cautious he had been, and Faelene had almost abandoned him for it. And then, of course, there'd been the issue of Psyche, and how she'd take the news. Fortunately for him, she'd been in a good enough mood to just accept it, with his half-spoken promise that it wouldn't happen again. But even so, that hadn't been yesterday. Weeks had passed. Anyone would see something had shifted between him and the Lady, and the authority with which he'd always spoken with suddenly had more conviction, more truth to it. While the title of the Basin was not King he was one again, in rank as well as essence.

A King who, for some reason, had put off coming into his third child's life.

Somewhere, the logic didn't add up, but on this particularly fine, somewhat sunny day he'd decided it was time. Time for him to meet his second daughter, and time for her to meet her father. Had Faelene ever told her who sired her? Or had she just.. not talked about it? Of course, tell the child and soon the herd would know, and what then if Psyche had forced him to abandon his claim on it?

Worries chased themselves through his head, but he would not let it ruin the day.. the moment. Irma scouted the patchwork sky ahead of him, scanning for the dark shape of Faelene or the somewhat lighter of Sielu. She'd kept an eye on them sometimes, mostly out of curiosity's sake, but seldom relayed what she'd seen or heard. What was the point? None; now she was willingly helping him, though, and eventually spotted Faelene's dark shape within a glade. Spruce trees rose around her, and Sielu's lavender shape flashed among them. Mauja drew a deep breath, held it, and willed his heart to slow its rhythm. This was not a day for war-fast paces; it was supposed to be a day of enlightenment and joy.

One frosted hoof drew in front of another, leaving a trail that melted quickly in the lingering warmth. He'd caught glimpses of the purple child before.. and on purpose, he skirted around where Irma told him she was. He had a feeling it would be better to meet with Faelene first, take that route, but now that he was here.. there was a deep, fierce longing inside, a slight shake to the powerful beat of his heart; a yearning, to know her. A yearning to be accepted, even this far after her birth.

With the sunlight softening his contours Mauja stepped into the glade Sielu had left, and made his way towards Faelene.