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Probably a little early to be starting a sequel, eh? But never the less, I have run into a wall for the moment, and so, thanks to a review from, Fay of the ink and the paper, I'm gonna write the link side of this and see if it helps move things along a bit and get the other story moving as well. As always:
On with the show!
Disclaimer: …
The young twili-half breed bounced into her room, her fiery reddish orange hair- which she'd inherited from her mother- flowing behind her, contrasting with the cool blue eyes she'd gotten from her father. She dove into the heavy blankets, shivering with excitement -like a puppy when it saw its leash- tonight her father was finally going to tell her the story, he'd promised he would.
Her father entered her room, prepared for their nightly ritual, "what do you want to hear tonight?" he asked, coming to lay next to her.
"Come on, daddy, you know what story!" she answered, cuddling closer to him, "you promised to tell me the story about you and mama," she pouted up at him, knowing he'd try to get out of it.
He sighed, "If I told you that story it'd take all night, and then you'd sleep in class."
"I'm fine with that," the young girl answered, the prospect of missing class wasn't all that unappealing to her.
"Then your mother would insist on a home school lesson to catch you up."
The excitement dimmed in her eyes at that. Her mother had a short temper as it was, and as a teacher she was even shorter tempered, though she was getting better. Even with that in mind her resistance held, "I don't care, daddy, you promised," she pouted at him again.
He bit his tongue. He'd made the promise when he'd had to play messenger between the twilight realm and the light world, she'd thrown a tantrum when she'd heard he was leaving and that was the only thing that had gotten her to quiet. He hadn't expected her to remember it.
Finally he blew out a sigh that moved his dark blond bangs. A sign of defeat that his daughter knew all too well. She grinned at him, a sharp toothed grin that was the spitting image of her mother's. It almost made him forget the young girl was his daughter and not a miniature Midna.
"Alright," he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, "It started nine years ago, two years before you were born…"