His daughter was nothing like him. Small, fragile, and cowardly. Of course, nothing could cloud his love for her. After all, she only had one parent, which meant he was obliged to love her for both.

"Don't twist your wrist, baby. The blow should come from the shoulder."

He gently squeezed her fists tighter, adjusting her «fighting» pose. She looked more like a kitten than a novice fighter. He held back a soft grin when she jerked her head up to look at him with her round (his favorite) eyes. He cupped her small head in his palms, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.

"It seems you've grown. The top of your head already reaches my belly button. Probably very soon you'll be as big and strong as daddy, yeah?"

He gently ruffled her hair, returning to his place under the large and blossoming apple tree. She liked to study only in this place of their small estate. After all, if she fell, she landed in thick green grass covered with apple blossom petals, and he then tremblingly pulled these petals out of her hair. Her favorite thing.