"Stop that, Onya. You'll tear it."
Yatrel er Goltbred's voice carried the patience of a mother who had spent the entire day with a fussy toddler. An entire set of days. Her youngest sat on the floor of their temporary quarters, tugging at the decorative trim of a small pillow with determined chubby fingers.
Separation from her father and elder sister had only intensified her stubbornly mischievous nature. Sometimes, due to Elua's mention of comparing her friends to animals… she thought of her as a playful little otter. Other times, she was clearly a racoon.
"Wan E-wah. Wan Papa!"
Abandoning the pillow before she was forcefully taken further from it, she crossed her small arms and rolled back on the floor. Her reddish-blonde hair was still stuck up at odd angles from an earlier tantrum - when it was 'Tat' and 'Tautau' she asked for. The duelist knelt beside her daughter, mint eyes staring into brown as she smoothed the wild strands.
