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Jora laughed softly at the nudge, leaning into it instead of away. “Someone has to remind the storm it’s allowed to slow down,” she murmured, glancing up at him with that knowing look. “Even the strongest winds need somewhere steady to break against.” Her gaze drifted back to Kaiya, watching the way her little eyes tracked them, already so aware. Jora’s expression softened, something protective and fierce all at once. “We will,” she said quietly, voice sure. “We’ll guard that curiosity with everything we have.” When he wrapped his arm around her, she settled in without hesitation, fitting against his side like it was where she’d always belonged. She exhaled slowly, letting the moment stretch, letting the quiet sink into her bones. “I know it won’t last,” she admitted under her breath, half a smile on her lips. “Peace never does.” Her hand slid into his, fingers lacing together. “But it always comes back. Especially when we hold onto it like this.” She stayed there with him, present and unhurried, choosing the calm while they had it—knowing they’d face whatever came next together. |
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At her tease, Sage had just chuckled, allowing their little moment of amusement to blend into the background. She was right, and they both knew it, but it had been a fun little jab between them for the time being. He nodded when she promised to allow her to keep that curiosity. To not let the world get in the way. "We'll teach her it's not a bad thing to ask questions. To want to learn," he added on, smile evident on his face. "Make sure they all have good schooling. Know their subjects well." He wan't good at reading and writing still, but Jora was. And he was good at toehr things to teach them. They would figure it out. And Lyra had turned out good so far, so they were doing something right. He chuckled again when she murmured about the peace not lasting. "That's all right," he noted quietly. "It just makes it all the more precious when it does show up," he added, keeping his eyes closed as he spoke. |
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Jora hummed in agreement, her thumb brushing slow, absent circles over the back of his hand as he spoke. “Exactly,” she murmured. “If peace were constant, we’d stop noticing it. This way…” she glanced around at their children, the soft rise and fall of their breathing, “this way it feels earned.” She smiled when he talked about teaching them—about curiosity, learning, doing things right. “They’ll be lucky,” she said quietly. “They’ll have you showing them how to survive the world, and me showing them how to question it. Between the two of us… they’ll be unstoppable.” Her tone was light, but there was certainty beneath it. Her head tipped gently against his shoulder, eyes slipping shut for a moment. “And if they stumble,” she added softly, “they’ll know it’s safe to ask for help. That matters just as much as knowing the answers.” She squeezed his hand once, a small, grounding gesture. “We’ve done good so far,” she said, voice warm with conviction. “And we’ll keep doing good—one lesson, one quiet moment at a time.” |
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Sage had hummed softly on agreement, smiling with a nod as she described how lucky they were. "This world holds a lot of secrets that will help them," he mused softly. "The ocean and forests all have their place, and its stronger than us. They're important to know about." He paused then, taking in a deep breath, just content to relax here like this. To think about their kids growing up, learning about their world and thriving in it. "They'll be a force to be reckoned with," he agreed with a soft chuckle. And one day, he hoped they met an opposing force. One that swept them off their feet, but carried them lightly. Aided them in what they wanted to do. A force that he and Jora shared. That was a long time from now though, so he brough his thoughts back to the present when Jora squeezed his hand. He looked over at her with a soft smile. A nod of agreement. "We've got this." And he meant it. |
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Jora smiled at the way his thoughts drifted outward—toward the ocean, the forests, the unseen things that shaped their home. She followed him there easily. “They’ll learn to listen,” she said softly. “To the water, the wind, the quiet parts people forget to pay attention to.” Her gaze shifted to the babies, small and impossibly new. “Those lessons last longer than any weapon ever could.” She exhaled slowly, savoring the calm he’d named. “A force to be reckoned with,” she echoed, a quiet laugh under her breath. “But grounded. That’s the important part.” Strong, yes—but kind. Curious. Aware of the weight of the world without being crushed by it. When he looked at her and said it—we’ve got this—something warm and steady settled in her chest. Jora leaned in, pressing her forehead briefly to his shoulder. “We do,” she agreed, certain. “Not because it’ll be easy… but because we’re not doing it alone.” Her fingers tightened around his hand, anchoring them both to the moment. To now. To the life they were building, piece by piece. |
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Jora's comments were soft. Sure. He agreed completely. "That's the most important part of this life," he agreed softly. "Noticing the little things...the small details....that's what makes a difference." He knew their kids would all grow up like that. Ready to take on any challenge with a grin and a stubborness that both he and jora would have passed down to them. Her comment about not being alone hit harder than expected...maybe because for so long he had been doing things alone. And now he didn't have to. "Family is important," he mused softly. "They'll know that too," he vowed. They would grow up knowing Joras mom, and Selene. They would grow up knowing their island like the back of their hand. The ocean around it. And he couldn't wait to teach them. |
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Jora nodded, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she let his words settle around them. “Exactly,” she murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s the small things that matter… noticing the way the waves break, or the sound of the forest at night… it teaches more than words ever could.” She glanced down at the babies, still quiet in their blankets, and then at Lyra, who was tugging gently at the edge of her sleeve. “They’ll know love,” she added softly, voice steady but warm. “They’ll know what it means to belong… and that family is something you fight for, protect, and never take for granted.” Her hand found Sage’s again, squeezing gently. “And we’ll teach them everything we can,” she said, eyes bright with certainty. “About the island, the ocean… about life. And we’ll do it together.” She leaned back slightly, resting her head near his shoulder, letting the quiet hum of their little home fill the space around them. “I can’t wait to see them grow into it.” |
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Morning Snow followed by Sunshine
