Betty
Essie walked through the orchards, admiring the trees. It was quiet, only the sounds of the birds chirping could be heard. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. During these quiet times was when her intrusive thoughts would enter her mind. Thoughts of her past. Her family. The war. No matter how hard she tried, nothing could keep these thoughts at bay. 

She missed her family. How they all traveled. The dancing around a fire. She felt so utterly alone at times. Empty. A hollowness in her chest thar never went away completely. Over time she learned how to distract herself. Drinking. Playing her mandolin the way her mother taught her. On rare nights she would star up at the stars, thinking of her Uncle. 

He was the one who would sit her in his lap when she was a child. He would point up at the sky and teach her all the different constellations. He was the one with enough patience to teach her her letters, to teach her to read. Tell her wonderful stories. Her own father was more practical. Always teaching her how to gamble, to swindle. Anything it took to survive. 

It was the combination of those two forces that shaped her, but lately she had just been surviving. She carried nothing impractical. Everything in her little wagon was necessary. Besides the mandolin and a tea set. The mandolin reminded her of her mother. How she patiently taught her around the fire. The tea set was something that reminded her of her Uncle. He loved tea, and Essie knew how much he wished to settle down, open his own shop. He could never separate from his family. That was a big factor in him traveling.

Essie was lost in her thoughts, absent minded. She picked apples at random. She let the hollowness in her chest grow, almost welcoming the feeling instead of the unbearable sadness. She needed a distraction.
Harry
No matter where he went there was always a connection to his family. His brother in the way animals ran wild and did what they had to, their survival instinct strong just like his. His sister in law and late mother in the song of birds and insects, their sound just like her music and movements like dance. In the water he saw his niece, calm sometimes but a force to be reckoned with at others. He always associated her with the constellation Taurus as well, the bull in the sky charging towards an unknown destination, it's eye Aldebaran shining brightly upon them in dark winter evenings. His tendency to connect things to memories and vice versa was both a blessing and a curse, the storm roughly a week or two ago transporting his mind elsewhere, to where it all fell apart. 

Esmerelda was the glue, if he found her then maybe their family could resemble even vaguely what it once was, anything but being a lonesome shard of pottery lost to the ages. Mita had gotten word that in this town, the town that could bring his long journey to an end, his shining star was heading off to the orchard. Even if this tip was false it would be nice to get something to eat as meals weren't always easy to come across out on the trail on top of heavy rationing. As he came into town a few people tried to get him to rest, tried to convince him to stay for a meal or two, but he refused each offer. His body was tired and pained but his mind felt too restless to restrain. 

Meekly stepping between trees and stroking his beard anxiously Mitica kept an eye and ear out for the girl. No, the *Woman*. So much time had passed that he worried he wouldn't be able to recognize her if she was here. Hell, would she recognize him? He had let himself go ever since the bombs fell in England. Oh dear, did he look presentable? Would she be worried? 

Deep in thought and fretting over admittedly petty details he almost missed it, a figure picking apples.

Sneaking closer upon noticing her the characteristics were being checked off as if on a list. He always asked if they'd seen a woman matching her description or at least what he last remembered her looking like and those details were present. The closer he got the more it clicked, bricks falling into place to repair the walls of his heart. He stopped a few feet away, just close enough to process her facial features and come to realization. Was he dreaming? Hot tears threatened to pour from his eyes but he did his best to hold back.

**"Essie?"** He called in a slightly quivering voice, his mouth agape and eyes wide behind cloudy glasses.
Betty
Essie froze. There weren't many who actually called her by her nickname. Fewer still were the men who knew her. That voice... Her heart rate picked up and she had been frozen, picking an apple when she heard him. She slowly lowered her hand, foregoing the apple. 

She slowly turned, looking at the man who called her name. He was older now. Not like how she remembered him. His hair was graying and it looked like his left hand was missing a few digits. She nearly forgot to breathe.

It felt like her world had turned on its axis. Slightly tilted. Her vision darkened for a moment before she took in a staggered breath. She was in shock. Disbelief. She didn't make a sound, just silently walked forward. She prayed this wasn't her imagination. If it was, she never wanted to leave. 

As she slowly approached her hands shook. Finally, she stood in front of him. "M-Mita" She asked, her voice warbled from the lump in her throat. She had kept her emotions in check until her shakey hand touched his face. 

As soon as her fingers touched his cheek, proving he was indeed real, her bottom lip trembled, a gasping sob broke free from her chest. Then she crumbled. She fell into him, hugging him tightly as the sobs racked her body. Tears flowed freely as she clutched to her Uncle. 

"I *Hiccup* I thought.." She couldn't even finish her sentence without more tears coming out.
Harry
As Esmerelda turned to face him he knew that his judgement was correct, it was her. However, she seemed just as in shock as he was, maybe even more so. As she walked forward part of him tensed, a residual reaction to a few less savory people he encountered during his journey who moved in silence like she was right now. With that being said this silence was out of disbelief, not rage or confusion, and as she reached forward and spoke his name it was clearer than ever that his search paid off.

Before he knew it she was hugging him, Mita almost toppling over as she put all her weight into him. Stumbling back a little bit in shock he eventually regained his footing and returned the favor, wrapping his arms around her body. Yes, her real body, that of his niece in the flesh. He couldn't help but cry too as much as he tried to stay steady, his grip tightening in disbelief, never wanting to let go. 

As Essie sobbed he did his best to console her, hushing her cries and rubbing her back as if she were a child who had woken from a nightmare. "It's okay, I'm here, I'm... I'm here." Mitica murmured between his own rolling waves of tears. Eventually he started to slowly crouch and move downward, attempting to take a seat on the grass with her. As he continued to hold her he began to realize the small things that were the same. Her voice - albeit a little deeper - was the same as were her mannerisms, the smell of plants still clinging to her hair, her chestnut brown eyes.

Whether she decided to sit or not Mita eventually reeled back to look at her in detail, cupping her cheeks in his hands. Despite his vision being blurred by encroaching tears and his glasses starting to fog up he could tell that she was still Essie, maybe just a little bit more tired and grown up.

Letting out a delighted laugh Mitica could feel youthful excitement surge through his body, his movements swift and steady as he released her face and reached for her hands to hold. He wanted to dance and sing, to tell the world that it should've never doubted him, that he was still here after all this time.

"Essie! I can't believe I found you! I've been looking for... Well, It doesn't matter, hah! Have you been sleeping well? How was the journey? What about food? Where are you living?" Mita began to ramble, spouting off questions that he never believed he would get the chance to ask. How did she get here? Were the townspeople treating her well? Oh, how clever and resilient was she, just like her father. He swore that if anyone here was giving her grief then they'd have someone new to answer to.