02-17-2008, 09:24 PM
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Endymion's eyes were distant, and he was thinking of Phasma's lifeless form when Legacy appeared by his side. He jumped slightly, startled by her sudden appearance. Then he smiled a warm smile that clashed with his gloomy composure just moments before.
"Some of it, yeah," he replied, glancing down at the design. "But I think mother's blood had something to do with it, too." Fatin was artistic, wasn't she? So of course it would make sense that her children were, too. The two-year-old ran his hand over the carving for a few moments, then turned back to her sister. She looked well, and comfortable in her Optime form, and that put some of his anxieties at ease. He felt proud to have such a wonderful, close-knit family, as cheesy as it was. Yet he often worried and lay awake at night praying to whatever that no harm would ever come to them. He hadn't ever been without family, and he didn't want that to change.
"How have you been, Legacy?" he asked, realizing he hadn't had a real conversation with her in a while.
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