There was a moment where the world froze around him and as Ashborn's teeth sunk, one last time, into his throat he felt coldness creep into every muscle and bone. A gurgle of protest left his parted lips and as she let go, he collapsed to the ground.
Eyes stared forward into the rapturous faces of his grandchildren, and he couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up from his throat, "I wasn't supposed to lose this round, daughter!" He rolled up onto his stomach and then climbed to his feet, eyes narrowed playfully as his child feigned innocence.
"Did we agree on a winner? I must have forgotten that conversation!" the doe returned, grinning.
The children laughed at their grandfather and mother, as the two came to revel in their delightful descendants.
"Now, children, what did we learn?" Heritage took over the lesson for a moment before it became an impromptu wrestling match as it often did. He wouldn't have protested if it came to that, he enjoyed having little ones around again and that his daughter had returned and the anger had not—he could never have hoped for a better outcome.
"That Momma always wins?" said the eldest.
"I wish I always won, darling," Ashborn snorted. "Today we learned that a battle is about stamina and eventually everyone will be defeated. That is why we will start to work on defense for our next session. Now, until then, pounce on Grandfather!"
Heritage had no time to react before he was quickly swarmed by his grandchildren. And he had no regrets. Only love and laughter remained.
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