11-16-2019, 01:01 AM
The bright-eyed filly glows (literally) in pleasure at her father’s confidence, the fireflies around her swarming together until their flashing lights emit a steady light around her head and shoulders. The glow is pretty in this muted sunlight, even if it highlights the long shadows of her protruding teeth and the way her iridescent mask shimmers enough to irritate the eyes of most horses. The soft vibration of their wings fills her ears, but not so much that she does not hear his acquiescence. Celina, deprived of her father for these long months, realizes that she has forgotten exactly how wonderful he is. The pride in his eyes, the confidence he has in her, they fill each crevice in Celina and cement her certainty and adoration for her father.
He’d relented with much less fuss than she’d anticipated, and promises her a trip to Nerine with a playful push. Celina stumbles a few steps, and then a few more for dramatic effect. Her Dad is grinning widely when she looks back up, and the filly assumes it is at her acting, and at the shared adventure they will have. “Do we have to tell Mom?” she asks conspiratorially, her voice an exaggerated whisper. “Or can it be a secret?” Celina loves secrets, and the idea of having one with Dad (one that just they have and not Mom and Elio, with whom she shares all her other secrets) is nearly as exhilarating as the idea of going to Nerine.
Dad sets a date, and Celina looks down at the snow at their feet, as though staring might make it melt faster. A few fireflies settle at her feet, but their dim glow only lights up the snow yellow-green. There’s no heat in them despite their name, and they eventually settle into a blinking ring around her left hoof when the effort to melt the snow proves futile. The idea of a father-daughter adventure sends an elated shiver down her iridescent spine. “I’m so excited!” She confides, as though her constant shifting from one side to the other wasn’t evidence enough.
“Do you think they’ll throw us off the cliffs?” She asks curiously, and despite the morbidity of the question, Celina sounds positively delighted by the idea. “Pteron said that they throw all outsiders over the cliffs but I think he just wanted to make sure I didn’t go.” Knowing her brother’s trick of invisibility, the winged filly lowers her voice and stage-whispers to her father: “Sometimes, I think he’s more boring than Mom.”
@[Wolfbane]
He’d relented with much less fuss than she’d anticipated, and promises her a trip to Nerine with a playful push. Celina stumbles a few steps, and then a few more for dramatic effect. Her Dad is grinning widely when she looks back up, and the filly assumes it is at her acting, and at the shared adventure they will have. “Do we have to tell Mom?” she asks conspiratorially, her voice an exaggerated whisper. “Or can it be a secret?” Celina loves secrets, and the idea of having one with Dad (one that just they have and not Mom and Elio, with whom she shares all her other secrets) is nearly as exhilarating as the idea of going to Nerine.
Dad sets a date, and Celina looks down at the snow at their feet, as though staring might make it melt faster. A few fireflies settle at her feet, but their dim glow only lights up the snow yellow-green. There’s no heat in them despite their name, and they eventually settle into a blinking ring around her left hoof when the effort to melt the snow proves futile. The idea of a father-daughter adventure sends an elated shiver down her iridescent spine. “I’m so excited!” She confides, as though her constant shifting from one side to the other wasn’t evidence enough.
“Do you think they’ll throw us off the cliffs?” She asks curiously, and despite the morbidity of the question, Celina sounds positively delighted by the idea. “Pteron said that they throw all outsiders over the cliffs but I think he just wanted to make sure I didn’t go.” Knowing her brother’s trick of invisibility, the winged filly lowers her voice and stage-whispers to her father: “Sometimes, I think he’s more boring than Mom.”
@[Wolfbane]