Tending to Darkness had been staring at the sky, expression furrowed. She thought she was a decent facsimile of her usual self, but it would seem that she wasn't. It must have been obvious, she supposed, by her glazed, still eyes that she wasn't really studying the stars and the patterns in the sky. No--she would be lying to herself if she really believed that she was good at pretending. She had always been obvious; obviously scared, obviously nervous, obviously worried.
"You worry, but cannot prevent the future." A voice called from the darkness, eerily still and calm. "You worry, but you sit there turning to the stars who cannot help you."
Dusk stiffened, too scared to even take off running.
"What are you worried about? You are small, but you seem hardly unhealthy." Dusk winced--not unhealthy was not inaccurate, but she wasn't sure it was accurate either.
But she couldn't say anything and only manage a shrug.
"We are not our children and they are not us. That much I can tell you. Their fate is their own." Dusk turned to face the darkness and was shocked to find not two glowing eyes but six staring at her.
Finally, she uttered, "Maybe."
A slow blink of those six eyes, "Then, may your children be themselves and only themselves, never any other."
Dusk didn't know how to thank the legendary in the dark, so she only closed her eyes. When she reopened them, the legendary was gone.