Kali did not know any of what had happened on the mission, she did not know about the brands or the war that the crew had started, or anything that had buffeted her father the past week.

She would learn, soon enough, and listen somberly to the tales. But for the moment, all that mattered was that her father had returned. Everything else could wait for the moment, because her father had returned. No bronze dragons, no cruel human boys, mattered in the slightest next to the feel of her father's arms around her.

She chirped, tiny little birdlike sounds of pleasure in the back of her throat, rubbing her cheek against him, soaking up his scent and the feel of his arms around her, returning the hug as tightly as she could, wings half spread behind her. He might be younger, he might not remember her, but he was still her father and his arms felt the same around her.

"I waited. I tried to follow your instructions, Papa. I did my very best." He was here, her father was here. She was not alone and that was really all that mattered to a child who had spent the past week in an agony of uncertainty. "Papa..."