Fortune favours the bold, and while Sikeax is not one to be claimed easily as bold, her previous was something she could claim as it. Volterra is quick to wisk away the subject with nothing but a dip of the head. Somehow, she wishes it wasn't as simple as that, but oh well, relief is already flooding in.
"See? Told so."
She could make a harsh remark if she was fast enough, but words are working their way out of their company's lips with no regard to what is left unknown, and while she can be prone to unintentional bouts spent quiet only to scream into the void with Hobgoblin, now is probably not the best time for that. The subject on their minds is too dire for that.
Nonetheless, he manages to catch her off guard, brows raised in a gentle motion that might barely be noticeable when his feelings truly announce themselves. As a mother, she knows the agony of what he admits to far too well, and can't help but scold herself at believing that he wouldn't worry for his sons as much as she does, if not more. The number that he must fret for has to greatly outweight the ones she must, but at least he manages it.
A frown slinks across her features without care. Ears tumble into a downed position and eyes are cast aside, Hobgoblin taking a brief pause in his attempt at abandonment to survey the pity and sorriness consuming her.
"Okay?"
His voice is a candle in the dark, reaching out through the fog, brave against the monsters that might exist within it only to ensure that she is alright. A firm ache is brewing in his chest. Together, they share the pain.
Yes. I'm okay. Thank you.
A nod of the head and their contact is split down the middle, broken into two wholes morphed into different beings. Hobgoblin is fast to blossom into the happiness that burns like wildfire when the dragon's touch hits him, despite the short seconds spent squirming in surprise. Hopefully Vérzés will not take it in ill, for once the feeling is accepted, purring thunders out of his chest.
His weight works to further shift into the red's body, all the while keeping an off smile on his features. Chuckling rings in his ears for a second before it's lost, fitting into place with Sikeax's voice.
A welcome savior.
"Kid is fine, I promise. I saw him a while back ago." Reassurance rings in her tone, but she can't help but feel the impending doom of what is coming. Zhu is still gone, and all of the pieces still feel like its her fault. She never spent enough time with him, never gave him enough love, but then again, he hadn't always been open to her endless affections. Stinging burns a hole in her lips where she bites it, holding back the truth.
"Zhu is," Hobgoblin's head breaks itself from the obvious display of affection currently occurring to give her a hard look, demanding truth. She can't find it for forever.
"Zhu is gone. He left a little while after his first birthday, and I haven't seen him since. He's probably out of Helovia now, somewhere far away." The agony of it makes her heart twist and wrench in a difficult mess of muscle contractions and emotional pain, deepening the pits growing at the end of her lips.
At least it's out there now, but she can't begin to imagine how he'll take it.
And as for what's left of their talk of Gods and their difficulties, she has nothing left to give other than the same nod as his own. A silent agreement stating its end.
It all crashes out too soon, because before she can really acknowledge it, he's there, closer than she's ever known him to be other than that day, except this time she finds herself at the opposite of end of his intentions. The touch is gentle, calm, soothing even, and without even noticing, she finds herself falling into it. His breath is warm, smelling of him. The texture of his muzzle runs against her own with a slip of a sigh from her lips. She shouldn't be enjoying this this much, but here she is, smiling, moving to press her face into either his own or his neck, ever mind of her horn.
Why, she asks herself with no possibility of an answer.
It crumbles in the aftermath of his announcement, still bearing her horrid attempt at a smile as he confirms her statement. It only makes her feel worse, and of course, something always comes along to make the whole situation worse.
She can't see why he doesn't understand that the whole reason that she's alone in the world, excluding Hobgoblin, is because she is running away from that place. She wants nothing to do with it, but his persistence to have her in a kingdom that he reigns over confuses her. In her own view of herself, she is nothing but a healer, a stronghold of knowledge to save lives and ease the passing towards death when nothing else is left. There are always others like her, and surely Aithneil was quick to replace her.
So, that brings her back around to the original, ever-constant question as of why?
"I don't know if I could go back." She brings it out with a weak sense of sureness, suddenly frightened of the idea of wounding him, but he's always come off as stone-hearted, so surely he can withstand the blow if it strikes. "It'd have to be something special, and as of right now, I'm not sure if there's anything left there for me. I failed a God, the people I considered my family, all of them. I can't even imagine why anyone there would want me to come back." Except maybe her daughter, but there is always the chance that she could rush to her daughter's aid and tear her away from such a place, and keep her safe somewhere else.

OOC: I hate this post and i'm so sorry to give it to you so badly but i couldn't stand making you wait any longer ;n;
"Talk."

You were angels,

And I sit and listen dreamlessly,