"Papa!" The fire, the disease, the agony of waiting for what would happen next all seemed to fade away at the simple sound of a voice. There, standing in the doorway with a bright smile and a waving arm, stood the youngest Lenoir. Scratched, dirty, and sopping wet, but there was no mistaking the bright blue curls that clung to the side of her pale face. Tevo jumped to his feet instantly, nearly knocking me and Thur over in his hurry to gather the wildly giggling girl in his arms. She'd finally learned to prefect her older illusion, not even fading back when every ounce of her energy went towards hugging the father she'd been separated from for too long. I planned on waiting until she'd at least been set down to greet her, but another figure had slipped through the open door and wandered to my side. Her bright blond hair had become disheveled, held back by a weak bun. The skin that had always held such a mysterious, lethal glow now dulled under the cover of dust and grime. As she turned to face me, a small smile gracing her lips, I couldn't help but frown. There was no doubt this woman was older than me, at least in the mortal sense of the word. Worry had taken hold of the stern face, softening it somehow, almost too much to bear. God, life on the run had not been good to Lorel Rainev.
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Uhg, I can never understand how or why you've ever liked her Kumo. e.e