[ Sica gave me permission to skip <3 ]

He wasn't sure what he was afraid of, but he couldn't deny that the exercise had his heart beating for all the wrong reasons. It took willpower to remain grounded, to not let his ears rotate freely, or sample every scent that came to him on the breeze. The shield around his mind was something he had apparently created by willpower, magic given life simply because he held his thoughts so tightly, and it was there for a reason. It was there, because his mind was his and his alone, and despite the fact that he was sure the walls would slide into place if he was overwhelmed by something.. he couldn't help but feel like what he was doing was making himself vulnerable, as if all his thoughts and plans would rush out, or the world rush in and knock him senseless, rifle through every moment of his life, relive every memory, steal every closely guarded secret... It was part fear, part a strong privacy, that had erected the icy wall of his mind, and it was that fear that tried, time and again, to trip him up. To hug his thoughts closer.

Strangely enough, Irma was a patient touch upon his soul, a soothing, lukewarm breeze in his heart. She was being oddly encouraging, and even though Mauja's eyes remained on Sielu, the focus slid away and the world became a blur. He stared at infinity, knowing that it wouldn't matter what he looked at, for the magic was not something he could see.

And there it was again, that hesitant touch, like cold water sloshing around in his cranium. A slight shiver traveled down his spine, and simply the semi-physical sensation told him that it was wrong. He didn't want to let the world in, or his thoughts out, but neither did he want to shove his daughter aside; had he come this far, risked it by obtaining Psyche's approval, only to lose it? No. And so, his eyes gradually closed, too, for he knew that Irma had winged closer again, keeping her own eyes on the surroundings to ease what of his worries she could. Her warmth suffused him, and after a moment, Sielu's strange mind-touch did not feel so cold anymore. He tried to envision it, anything to help him do this, tried to see a way for her to come past.. to come inside...

"Daddy...?"

It was a faint whisper, almost like a thought created by himself, but some faint notion of sound – of tinkling water, little bells and the rustle of leaves in the wind – carried with it, and he knew that it did not originate within his own mind... He knew that it came from her, because the seeking tendrils that had lapped against his walls were gone, except for that tenuous, whisper-light touch where he had let her in.

"Hello daughter," he murmured, eyes half-lidded still, his mind on not letting the gap slide shut; his deep voice rolled across the small distance between them, heartfelt but with that edge of concentration to it. "How are you?"