isolt griffin
I'm more alive than I've ever been
Nadya's hesitation was a tangible thing, as much so as a chill rattling its way down the curve of her spine. Isolt swore that she could almost smell the metallic tinge of the adrenaline pulse, and for this did she release the other woman from her embrace. It is a hesitation that she can understand, she supposed, the dramatic falling out between Nadya and her brother a known thing across the breadth of their community. Though it may have come as quite the surprise to the younger woman that Tetradore had hardly uttered a word to Isolt about the details of the less-than-quiet chaos of their personal strife; alas, word had reached her ears upon the loosened lips of her drunken patrons. Few things were sacred within these city limits, after all, and there was no sanctity in the mind of the drunken man. And truly, it was not for Isolt to suss out where the fault lay in the saga of Nadya and Tetradore. It was only for them and no one else.
A soft chuckle whispers past her lips as she kneels before the pair of cherubs. "I don't think that ever goes away, really. At least, it never did for my parents, they were chasing my brother around well into his teenage years." The auburn-haired woman rises then, welcoming the toddler into her arms as if she had done so a hundred times before, cradling her with the very same delicate assuredness as she had done in her infancy. Again does the youngster gather a handful of gossamer curls into her hand, giggling her delight and muttering hardly-decipherable gibberish to no one in particular. Isolt is silent for a long moment, simply allowing her eyes to rove over the toddler in her arms before she leans to plant the gentlest kiss upon her perfect little forehead. Hardly had she realized how deeply and desperating she had missed them until now, the warmth of Izzy's skin tugging in an almost cruel way at Isolt's heartstrings as she wished to a god she did not believe in that her skin might offer the babe the same comforting warmth.
"Oh my gosh, that's great! A dance studio? I may have to come by and have you teach me a few things... my brother once told me that I dance like a cat on a hot tin roof. But, from the way my mother and father used to dance, it may be genetic." Her eyes lift to those of her counterpart then, geniune glee sparkling as diamonds within her eyes. "I'm so happy for you, Nadya, really." At the other woman's query, though, Isolt heaves a breathless, heavy sigh no doubt fraught with the exasperation of planning nuptials that were fast approaching. Despite this, the smallest simper bleeds through to her cherry lips. "Yes, if I can manage to plan the damn thing without it falling apart," she offers, slender fingers rising to whisp feather-light tresses out of Izzy's eyes. "And if my fiance stops disappearing for months at a time." Her eyes cut to those of the woman opposite her, an apologetic look twisting at her otherwise pleasant features. "Sorry. But, uh, I sent your invitation to the condo. If you'll come by the pub I can get you one... I really hope you'll be able to make it. Tet will be there but... but I'd like you both to be there if you're okay with that."