When she had left, for the good of everyone, she had never considered returning. She knew that at some point she would have to speak with her mother again, see her and hope that the anger, the sadness had abated. It had never occurred at home, in her own head, but elsewhere. Instead, she had always dreamed that Keepsake would find her and beg her to return. And it was a dream for it never happened, there had never been any sight of her mother or her siblings or Heritage. And it burned that no one had seemed to care to find her but they had their reasons as she had her own.

Now, though, after what she had learned . . . Keepsake wanted her back, had always wanted her back, but feared that Ashborn would say no and reject her once more. She longed to tell her mother that she had never rejected her. She had understood, however, that to remain would mean a death and she was not ready to take that step then. She hoped she would not have to take that step now. It was finally time to admit who she was, what she was. But first she had to see her mother. And that meant returning home.

It took a few days to convince Extravagance and Opulence to come along to watch the children before she undertook the days long journey towards home. She remembered the way, had never forgotten it. And as she stepped into the clearing where her family often gathered, she took in a deep breath and then released the fear and anxiety into the air.

"Mother?"

Leaving never got easier. Or, rather… being left. For dreams of being cherished, for being kept and loved… it was something that had oft come up in her life. Heritage had hurt. Heritage had been an ache that had defined her, that stayed with her even now. She had forgiven, had learned to move on… but it stayed there, in her heart. All she could do was try to keep loving, try to live her life as best possible.

And then Ashborn had left.

There was something different, this time. Something more cruel. It had been Heritage to leave her, and his daughter to carry that on. Following her heritage, as it were. The irony was not lost on Keepsake, here. And in the nights where she had to lean harder on him, she wondered if she didn’t hate him, a little, for this legacy of being left behind.

But she did not know what hate was, no. She knew what it was to be left.

Even with her family— with the puppies, with her loves… there were times she wanted naught but her own company. Just to take the time to deal with her thoughts. For all that she loved what she had, for all that she was happy… she missed Ashborn. Her temper, her spirit. How much fire burned in her, how her daughter had turned strong and passionate where she had been resigned. Ashborn was action, she was waiting. Sometimes, Keepsake envied that in her.

Today was one of those days.

Left to herself, not even the wolves to keep her company, Keepsake had started at another’s arrival. She stood quickly, turning with her heart thundering and an apology on her tongue when she stopped.

“…Ashborn? My darling, is that you?”

@anemosagkelos

Fear mingled with elation as her name spilled from her mother’s lips. It had been eons since she had heard her own name in that specific tone, in that cadence that only her mother could ever use. It sounded like music, harmonious and beautiful, that no other kin would ever be able to replicate. And though it was exquisite, terror seized her.

She imagined rejection, harsh and biting, that would follow such a sound as her heart pounded and she waited for the cacophony of voices from her siblings, from even Lightning Strike and Heritage, but when none came, she thanked her stars that this was private.  She feared that she would be forced to flee and though, now, she had a place she could take refuge, sanctuary at . . .

“Darling.”

Ashborn’s breath caught as the word touched gentle as a breeze against her ears.

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” she called out as she ambled forward. She felt as though her knees would give out, as though the muscles and even the bones in her body would break. There was now a touch of sadness without the rest of her family but this needed to be the two of them. It was only now that she realized the truth.

While the schism had truly began because of Heritage, it had never been about the buck. It was always between mother and daughter for Keepsake had been rendered half-hearted and while all of that heart was given to her children, Ashborn had always felt the loss of her whole mother keenly. She had wanted those smiles and laughter that only Heritage had known. It was his return that had shown her all that she had missed; the hatred had never been for Heritage himself but for the part of her mother he had taken from her.