Visenya had spent so much time worrying about how she would be perceived - and if she would be remembered - that she had neglected to consider the other side of her concerns. Would she recognize them? What were her family like now? Was Nymeria still fawning over Vortigern, and had her three brothers stayed as close as they had been as children? She hadn't even thought on whether or not they had found partners, imprints, changed their allegiances...

When she saw her mother, she tripped. So shocked, so surprised, she had been that her legs simply faltered beneath her, faltering her step into a stumble. Even after she corrected herself, her face bore the surprise and shock instead. Her eyes had grown wide, her expression moving from shock, to surprise, to bewilderment - to everything in between - but finally, it settled on overwhelmed. She had come to the mountains as a woman but suddenly, beneath the eyes and word of her mother, she felt ever the child. Words had stopped mattering the moment she had seen her mother on the same path. Instead, she charged ahead to meet her mother's embrace with a sharp inhale, forcing back the childish urge to cry.

She wrapped her neck over the mother's, felt her warmth against her chest as their hearts met in the middle. She breathed in Daenerys' scent, so familiar and yet, so different; her mother was more pine and mountain stone than wolf, her scent so much a part of the mountains that Visenya had only breathe it in to remember every path, crevice and peak of their - her? - mountain home.

When she pulled away to look at her mother's face, she saw the hints of age that had crept over Daenerys. It had confused her at first, to see the grizzled fur, the scars, but the more she took it in, the more it all felt as if it had always been there. Visenya felt like a fool to have ever thought she'd not be recognized, not while she was so able to see the same Daenerys, the same mother, through all the years she had missed. So, she laughed. She laughed and she buried her face into her mother's silvery, moonlight fur again, only pulling back when her laugh had become a sigh that seemed to breathe out every worry she had ever carried with her.

"I'm home," she said with a grin, as if she had only been on a small journey, a hunt by the river perhaps. Her grin broadened, sheepish and glad all at the same time. "Sorry I'm a little late. There were some things keeping me busy." It had taken a joke to push the tears well and truly back to where they had come from. Oh, how relieved she was to feel so much like herself even beneath the shadow of the peak and the love of her mother. She had been born Visenya, and Visenya she still was.

"I-" She faltered, brows furrowed, and shook her head. "I don't know...where to even begin." And like a child, she looked to her mother for answers.