"One Day, I Shall Live By the Code of Honor."
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Oh.
There was very little time for Laila to react to the tiny, scaled body that flew at her; she had allowed her father to touch her in greeting, but before she knew it, the ebony filly was sporting a little green hat that glittered and sparkled in the heated din of the Heart. The dragon was surprisingly warm as the weight settled on Laila’s head—the cold glimmer of the scales inspired the idea of chill in Laila’s mind—and the hatchling was unexpectedly light, as brittle as the bones of a newborn bird. Laila supposed the comparison was fairly accurate.
*"Laila…This is Nyx. And the little one on your head is called Suli.”
“Oh,” Laila said, a little taken aback with the curiosity of the tiny hatchling. It was endearing though, and her face broke out into a shattering grin, straining her eyes to look upward at the small green reptile perched on her head. “Hello, Suli,” she said playfully, a small giggle escaping her lips; she moved with ginger care, afraid to jostle the small hatchling, unwilling to bring her to harm. “Hello to you too, Nyx,” she said without turning her head; the ebony Acolyte was most desirous to abstain from jostling her little green charge. It was rapidly turning into something very exciting indeed.
But then her eyes lifted to meet her Father’s, and the ecstatic light in her eyes turned to something much gentler, much more sincere. She allowed her gaze to settle for a moment, before saying in the merest hint of a murmur, “Hello, Father…I’m…sorry I haven’t been around lately.”
It was strange; the emotions running underneath Laila’s skin were hard to read, even for herself. On one hand, she was so desperately happy to see her father and finally meet the tiny bonded of his heart that now sat happily upon her head, but it was more than that. It was almost a relief, an affirmation for the righting of things; it was as though the pieces in her life were settling into their designated places, well and truly correcting themselves. But Laila also felt the full force of her guilt as she looked into her Father’s kind brown eyes; with a jolt, she realized how long it had actually been since she last looked upon her father. Much too long, she decided.
“….I’m sorry,” she said again, her tone brittle and her normally strong voice much quieter than average.
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