Rosa was mending some tears in a random piece of clothing- it was nothing specifically important. But she prefered keeping her hands busy, as shes previously stated herself on the occasion. Sewing definitely did that for her. Humming slightly, nothing crazy as of late had occured so she was simply relaxing as it were. In a hive, something she hadn’t had the joy of having for long back in her life.
Seems the afterlife was mostly her enjoying things she never had the chances for in life. Not as though Rosa was going to start complaining now, though. She felt rather at peace- Well, until there was a knock at the hive door. Her yellow eyes went wide in surprise and she sat up from her chair, placing the needles and her cloth on the chair to rest instead before walking over briskly.
She wasn’t certain who the visitor was, but boy did the flood emotions once she opened the door to the guy right there hit her like a ton of bricks. How long had she not even seen even an iteration of her sons face? She stared at him with her bright eyes, her face had no emotion on it, though; she needed to keep her composer.
“…Hello, dear. ” She greets him gently. Hoping the composer spread to her tone of voice, too. Like absolutely nothing was wrong in this situation.
Kyrsan had been spending uncountable sweeps trying to navigate whatever this afterlife was called. Bubbles, he thought he remembered hearing them called. So many failed attempts that just resulted in him back where he started. Landing in places that only reminded him of the life he had left behind.
Until now. Although this hive wasn’t exactly as he remembered it, it was most certainly mother’s. This place, of all that he had visited carried only one bad memory. Leaving. Steeling his nerves, he took the first few tentative steps forward and thought to himself.
She is not your mother, she is but another version of the troll you called Mother. But that matters not to him, and he took the final step with a call confidence before giving a sharp few raps against the door.
When she opened it and spoke, Kyrsan swept his mother into a wordless hug, clutching the fabric of her dress in his hands as silent sobs began to course through his body.
“I’m sorry I failed you,” he said, voice a horse whisper entirely unlike the inspiring tone he carried up until his final moments.