A Place to Call Home

[Dawali Amara]

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! :] Word Count: 412 come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops This little girl, his own little girl, she was not little anymore. Aiyanna had only been weaned when her mother died, and when the tribe was attacked he had not had time to care for her on a daily basis. Too many had needed his skills as a medic, and as a Gola Watsi, a carer for the dying and dead. It was a time he would rather forget —all that death and all the torn up families had happened for no reason. And when the Kalona picked him for the scouting party —how could he argue? It was an honor to be chosen. Leaving Aiyanna with her relatives, he'd gone ahead with the selected few to find the future settling place for the tribe. A long time passed but the tribe never came, not until Asha left to search, and arrived with news. Now, he realized he did not know the female in front of him. He knew her scent, and he recognized her markings and features, but he knew nothing of the female inside. How long had it been.. almost two years, now? One and a half? He did not remember, but the flood of joy he had felt when Asha returned was the same as he felt now, but it carried with it a hint of insecurity. His hands shook as he stood rigidly by the side of his youngest daughter, well aware of her likeness to her mother. Was she as stubborn as Asha, as Mischka had been? Probably intelligent, but not from his side of the family. His voice was awkward as he spoke, uncertain and strange. You could count on Dawali to get emotional when it came to his daughters. It's been way too long. He paused, taking in how tired she looked. How different she looked! He had missed it all, every single eventful happening in her life. She had probably met her spirit guide and everything by now —Asha had told her of her sister's doings. Neither of them had chosen this, and his family was scattered. It was not her fault, nor his, that he had not been able to stay with her, but he regretted it anyhow. Can you forgive me? His face was a mixture of an apology and worry —worry that she might not accept him as he was. He'd only ever wanted the best for his children, but it would seem that he might have failed in this case.

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