His chest was a safe haven all to itself, where she could hide and let her worries slip away into the outside world. Rio's shaking body slowly stilled, and she took a few deep breaths into the unequivocal warmth of her father's strong chest. She had no worries toward taking his time away from him; the innocent selfishness of childhood lead the girl to assume he would be there for her, that he was holding her because he wanted nothing more than to help her in that very moment. Sure, he had the adult part of his life. But for now, he was the sun that would wash her rain away. All she could feel was the traces of sadness still fleeing her form as he spoke, and the extraordinary comfort he brought to her with his presence.
His pause worried her, like maybe he had bad news to bring her about her mythical friends. Maybe they had left forever, as was her utmost fear at the moment. But he did not at all disappoint her. He wove together the perfect explanation, and she listened with ears erect, her paws holding her up from his chest and her chin tilted up toward his godlike face. They were just sleeping. Everyone slept. They would be back to her soon, to dance around her and light up her world. "Oh yes!" she told him urgently in response to his question, her snout nodding once. "They dance, they dance wiff me, and smile." And Rio smiled. "They a' so so pritty, Papa."