now don’t you understand…that I’m never changing who I am?

Reagan’s mind settled as she looked up from her lunch to realize that there was a very special little girl bounding off, under the loving watchful eye of her father. Sahm was always watching—and so was Newton, to be fair—but under the tutelage of Reagan, there seemed to be a camaraderie between them that allowed her the exclusive right to approach the precious Elora without fear of retribution from her overprotective fathers. She smiled and bounded up—much like a newborn filly herself—and got down on the ground so that she was not much taller than the little girl.

She smiled, her green eyes painted on little Elora, while picking daisies up with her teeth, winding them around into a little flower crown. Placing them gingerly upon the little girl’s head, she army crawls close to Elora until their noses touch, and then she smiles again.
 
“Boop.

now don’t you understand…that I’m never changing who I am?

Reagan leaped up to steady Elora’s body, to prevent her from falling on her little delicate butt, which would have inevitably resulted in her legs waving about akimbo, and driving her fathers to come and interrupt their game. Reagan giggled, lowering herself back down into the grass, replacing the daisy crown on the little princess’ head before rolling onto her side. “If you could be anything, Elora, what would you be?” She looked at the little girl, and then looked at Sahm and Newton to assure them that she had everything well in hand—for they had seen their daughter lose her balance… Poor Newton was stuck in between hovering near and far as if he were a broken drone or a carpenter bee unsure of where he needed to drop his load of nectar.
 
These were the times that every girl dreams of. Being able to share your dreams and play with the flowers and the bugs and explore life as it was intended to be. Reagan tried to see the world through her eyes, and found that she was far more jaded than she ever had any right to be.

now don’t you understand…that I’m never changing who I am?

What do you want to be, Auntie Reagan?...
 
To be asked such a question when one is well over 100 years old is almost cruel. The days stretch onwards with no sense of ending, and yet, there is always something to do, something to be…someone to be. Reagan was a diplomat; a mother; a lover; a lady. She had been so many things to so many different people that the concept of being anything as simple as a princess or a bumble bee was inconsequential to her. And yet, looking at Elora and how blissfully happy she was, She understood not for the first time that perhaps, her perception of the world was a bit…jaded.
 
And so while the scales fell from her eyes, she looked longingly at the little girl and nuzzled the side of her cheek from where she’d flopped over Reagan’s belly, and said in a quiet voice. “All Auntie Reagan wants to be, child, is happy. And right now I’m happy just being with you.”

now don’t you understand…that I’m never changing who I am?

Reagan playfully nipped at Elora’s neck and giggled as she rolled onto her back and kicked up at the dandelion fuzz. She would play with this child all day if she could—being able to sit around and tell stories of leprechauns and good luck charms…but she had no such luck or such a happiness to tell. She had grown under the school of religion and told the right way to be and the right way to do things. There was always a consequence, and never a reward, and so the happy child that was Reagan had grown up far too young and far too early to appreciate such frivolities. And yet, as an old woman—who would forever be immortal—she dreamed leprechauns and rainbows and little gold chocolate coins that could give the sweetest human child a toothache.
 
And still remembered to say her prayers at night. She was discovering more of herself with each passing day, for without the power she was birthed with, she was learning more about who she was, and what she was, and she was finding that the right way to be, was simply to be. A lesson taught to her by a week old little girl whose only goal in life was to make each day as awesome as the last. And so, rolling over again, she butted Elora in the bum, and bounded off like the filly she wasn’t shouting at the top of her lungs with a laugh, “TAG, YOU’RE IT!”