She is quiet when she reaches over to press her nose against the neck of her beautiful lavender companion, inhaling the sweet scent of his skin with a smile soft against her lips. Can you believe this? She wonders at him, shaping a kiss against his neck before she leans back to survey the forest around them.
It is so impossibly beautiful, so magical and bright. The usually warm island is now covered in white, glowing snow, with snowflakes still falling through the branches of the trees overhead. It isn’t the whole island, because though they had Tiphon’s blessing for this, it hadn’t seemed right to overwhelm any of the citizens who preferred the quiet and solitude of this sanctuary territory. This was meant to bring joy to the many who needed it, some merriness to a dark, broken world.
She smiles again, shifts closer to Kharon to rub her cheek against his shoulder, then reaches over to draw Merry closer again, too. “I hope they enjoy this.” The horses of Beqanna, she means, though she is watching her twins play together. Bounding through piles of snow, her wild Dustov blasting snowflakes with beams of light as Dark paws them from the air with delicate hooves, refusing to be left out. They seem to like the snow, perhaps more so the magic of it, the way the Island air remains nearly warm and temperate. “Fox really outdid himself.”
But he isn’t the only one who has contributed to the festivities, providing the snow and the sparkling ice sculptures. There are others with their own gifts. Healers and magicians, her brother willing to teleport guests in safely from the furthest lands. And her own lights, of course. A twilight bridge with the help of Scorch, stretching from the island to the mainland for those who would prefer not to swim, and much lesser lights twinkling along the shore and in the leaves of every tree touched by snow.
She wears them, too. In her mane and in her tail, nestled glowing pinpricks scattered throughout the blue of her dark, mottled skin. So does Kharon, not that she’d allowed him much of a say, or that he even needed them to look so beautiful on this festive night. But she’d braided them into his mane and tail, too, had outlined every single feather in each of those breathtaking wings she loved so much. Even Dustov wore some of her light, bright flecks of it buried among his stars to make them shine so brilliantly. Dark hadn’t needed them, was lit by the armor she had inherited from her father and the light she had inherited from her mother. Only Merry had refused, looking so beautiful draped in the velvet dark of contrasting shadow.
She nuzzles Merry’s neck beneath his mane, fussing absently in a reflex that has only grown stronger in her in the past few months. “What do you think, baby?” She murmurs so soft against his neck, watching Dark abandon her brother to race after a large, bounding hare Luster felt quite certain was made entirely of snow. He has seemed so quiet lately, so reserved, and she worries about him. Worries that there have been too many changes in such a short time. Losing their home to the plague, gaining two very bonded siblings no one had seen coming. Maybe it was more than her gentle boy knew how to handle, too much to adjust to.
Her mind reaches for Kharon though, a gentle affectionate push, an easy smile on her lips when her eyes settle so dark and quiet on his face. You look beautiful, Khar.
