Maybe she had decided that to stay might destroy her, and so her time here was to be kept in short spurts. Already she wanted to disappear back into the cold hearth of her father’s home, where she had not been born, but instead Sova found some sort of comfort in knowing that her father was nearby; for now.

Despite the discomfort in the sweltering heat of the desert, Sova finds that, as night falls and the sun leaves the sky and the moon stands tall against the distant horizon, she almost feels as though she belongs here, if only in the dark of the night.

Here, with Encantador, near the water’s edge with her belly full of the cool liquid, she is happy; for the moment at least.

Reflecting back on Fishthread, with her twisted and ugly legs, Sova does not feel sorry for her mother. Whilst the black skinned woman had not been able to keep up with her daughter when she frolicked, her mother had redeemed herself with the love she expressed for her daughter, even the songs and the stories that she shared. The smoky skinned girl did not have a sad or lacking childhood. She had been happy and carefree, only ever feeling sorry when she had to think back about her missing father. This is what brought her back here and, obviously, into the presence of the dunskin creature in front of her.

“You don’t need to apologize.” She says quietly, once more wanting to reach out and touch his cheek- this time for real. Instead she shifts her weight to the side, away from him, as she surveys him for a couple moments before speaking again. “We all have bad days, I’m sure.”

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