grunehexe: (surprised)
Sieglinde Sullivan ([personal profile] grunehexe) wrote in [community profile] thirstology 2017-12-18 05:00 am (UTC)

[It isn't him.

It becomes clear when he faces her, when she hears his voice and sees the differences, too subtle to pick out at distance... or, no. Perhaps that was an excuse, for having been momentarily blinded by what she hoped to see, rather than what she actually did. A shame on her, and the clinical teachings of medicine and science. Something she shouldn't have allowed, because that sort of thing only ended like this, with the pit of disappointment in her stomach-

Until the words sink in.]


Father-

[Sieglinde realizes belatedly that her hand hovers in the air where she thought to pursue him, reach for him, and so she pulls it down back to her side with a quick motion, steadies her stance and tries to stand tall instead of awkwardly, a young girl in a blood-stained apron wearing leather gloves in a cave full of insect carcasses.]

You are... his son? Neoptolemus?

[She should answer with her own, she knows, shouldn't confuse him with her knowledge of such things, but-

Oh, how fickle and cruel and strange was fate and it's workings.]

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