❝   That  Makes  One  Of  Us,  Then  …   ❞  𝐂𝐇𝐋𝐎𝐄'𝐒 

            ❝   That  makes  one  of  us,  then  …   ❞  𝐂𝐇𝐋𝐎𝐄'𝐒  𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄  𝐈𝐒  𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍  𝐀  𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐅𝐔𝐋.  She  isn't  usually  so  self-deprecating,  but  at  this  point  she  can't  get  much  lower.  It  was  only  by  an  embarrassing  amount  of  begging  that  her  papa  hadn't  shipped  her  and  her  mother  off  to  London  in  the  end  —  though  Maman  had  left;  as  she  always  did  when  things  didn't  go  her  way  and  only  returning  when  it  suited  her.  It  took  a  long  time,  but  Chloe  realises  now  that  she'll  never  get  her  mother's  approval,  or  be  her  perfect  carbon  copy.  And  for  the  first  time,  Chloé's  okay  with  that.

            Chloé  carefully  cups  her  hands  around  the  kwami  as  she  flits  closer.  It  feels  good  —  warm,  even  —  to  know  that  Pollen  believes  in  her.  Even  if  she  doesn't  quite  believe  in  herself  yet.  ❝   You're  my  only  friend  now,  Pollen.  I...  I  need  your  help.   ❞

❝ ━ My Queen ... ❞ Pollen's voice, normally as robust as anyone's worthy of her power, is soft. She presses her hands together - only hesitating for a moment before hovering closer. No matter what has transpired, what has befallen Paris, Pollen can feel it : that honey-warm glow that drenches the connection between kwami and holder.

❝ I would never hate you ! I have only ever been proud to fight alongside you. I believe - I know that we can accomplish something good, still. Together ! ❞