"You held out well," whispered the Heavenly Demon, crimson eyes cast down to gaze upon his resting daughter. "We…"
The Head of the Cult, the supreme of the sect, the feared one, trailed off. His voice faded whilst the words died in his throat. He opened his mouth, lips curling, and then closed it again.
Perhaps he wished to say something, to say the words he was not quite sure of. Finally, Cheon WuHui stood by his daughter's side, and approached no further.
He did not hold her hand, he did not weep in relief, simply and silently stared at the little girl. In his eyes was a stifled storm.
"You've held out well." He repeated himself, his mind a quiet place of turmoil. The Heavenly Demon was strong, terrifying, ruthless. Cheon WuHui was… Unsure. Hesitant.
In the stifling silence, thin under the pressure of his making, Cheon WuHui simply accompanied his daughter, doing nothing. Without even touching her.
