K'luha stepped nervously through Ul'dah. She had been there so many times before, but somehow it felt more nerve wracking then ever. It felt more hostile... more... sinister. Somehow going to Ul'dah that day felt like she was loosing, or maybe it was giving up an essential part of herself. 

She held a small bag of things... K'ailia's things. Things she would never see again most likely. Things for a girl who was her daughter, and yet not her daughter. A woman alive, and dead at the same time. 

Luha's lips were set in a small frown tight across her face, her ears flattened to her head. They hadn't budged from that spot since she left for Ul'dah that morning using the Aether to travel. The way home would be much longer... All to give away the last things left of her daughter. 

Entering the Garden, protected and sheltered inside she felt lost. But still she walked, occasionally stopping to ask where she should be going until she at last found her daughter dressed in red. K'luha could not smile at her daughter, or be happy to see her. She only felt a heavy sadness. 

Still, she waved remotely to signal her presence to K'ailia and moved to hand the bag over to her. 

"I got everything I could find from the tent. Your bedroll too... though I don't think you'll..." she paused, having almost said want it. "Need it here..." K'luha coughed awkwardly and shrugged. "The clothing you had is in there too and all of the things K'piru left in the tribe. Well, all of the things she gave you at least. And that's all..." 

Her mis-matched eyes looked to the ground and she reached up to tug on her ears, forcing them to stand up normally. It stung. Her daughter didn't... need or want her anymore really. That was what this entire ordeal said to her. K'ailia wanted to be with others. She wanted to save Eorzea. She could care less about saving her own people. Had she ever really cared in the first place. 

"I'll be going then if that's it..." K'luha motioned, moving to head back towards the door and leave. There was no point in prolonging this. K'ailia was gone and she was only talking to a ghost now. 

K'luha froze a bit as she felt a hand on her shoulder. K'ailia, why would she want her to stay anyway? The elder miq'ote glanced back around to her daughter and paused. An apology? That hardly covered the sort of hurt K'ailia had inflicted. A simple sorry? Was that supposed to fix everything? 

It stung again. Saying her own family was stupid. Maybe some laws were outdated... but there was a reason. There was a reason why they shouldn't be talking with outsiders. 

The offer to decorate her daughter's room. Should she take it? What would K'ile say? Obviously no. Well... perhaps not. But K'ile wasn't here. She had to make her own decisions... which she seemed to only make worse and worse ones of late. 

"I... m-maybe for a little bit." she smiled faintly, although it didn't feel genuine. It was terribly forced. But she was trying. For K'ailia, she was trying her best. 

K'luha was unsure of her decision the entire walk over. The more time she spent with the outsiders the more she felt like an outsider in her family. The more time she spent with family the more alien she felt with the outsiders. Was there no way for her to find a place in between? But, regardless... she knew what she had to do and sacrificing her own desires was more important. There were people who still relied on her... at least some people. 

As she stepped into the quarters K'luha felt somehow strange. She could not place what sort of emotions she was feeling anymore. They all seemed so mixed up and distorted. Carefully the mother stepped in and examined the desk and walls before looking back to see K'ailia spread out her bedroll and things. 

Azeyma's child... K'luha looked away. She could have laughed. She had already forsaken the tribe's tradition and Azeyma. What else could she forsake this day?

K'luha had to hold her tongue. She had not made a mistake. The only mistake she had made was letting K'ailia go off to Gridania in the first place. She should have sent her to Ul'dah where everything was full of scum and filth and not the peace of the forest. But would that really have changed anything at all? 

'No... it wouldn't...' K'luha thought sadly to herself. Her eyes fixed upon the ground she said nothing. 

So many feelings the same, and yet they were so different. Different people, different reactions she supposed. And yet, being the one who had always been there for K'ailia's every desire, every heartache, every injury... she somehow also felt a little used. Perhaps that was just what motherhood was? Would her first kit have been the same? Would they have only left the tribe together? It was no wonder to K'luha now why K'piru left the tribe. Such heartache... and to return home only to be reminded by her empty tent and the smiles and cries of the other children? It tore at her a little more every day. 

K'luha gave a heavy sigh and leaned back against one of the walls, her eyes drifting aimlessly to the ceiling. 

"K'ile is stupid. He could never force you to mate or have children in the tribe and you know it. Not to mention he will never be a Nunh. Have you forgotten those things K'ailia? Your purpose was not to pump out kits. Nor was it my purpose. I chose to have you K'ailia. On my own free will, and against the will of the tribe I insisted upon having you because I wanted a child...." K'luha trailed off, letting a moment of silence fall as she pondered her own ignorance as a young adult. Certainly older now, and maybe after all of this a little bit wiser. 

"I thought I had tasted loss when the Calamity struck. I thought I had tasted it when we lost our sisters and brothers and children. But I see now that I had not begun to fathom its bitter taste. I have made mistakes K'ailia. More than I care to recount and I am sure I will make more in days to come... but you have wounded me beyond my wildest imaginings. There is a rift between us now... Something that perhaps time will heal. Or perhaps not. Not only by your actions, but your words. I am sorry I cannot share in your joy of freedom."