The joy at seeing the filly she had made fire-proof flowers for all grown up fades quick as she hears the pain and exhaustion in her voice. Isilya watches in horror as the star-strewn filly collapses between them and she hurries to the girls side - and understands Leonora’s pleading immediately. “It’s going to be okay, Leonora. I promise.” She calls her magic before the first syllable is out, drawing nutrients from the ground and infusing them into the young girl’s body. It would ease her pain, and lend her the strength she needed from that first feeding.
As she does that, she also plucks the white flowers from the vines on her back and weaves them into birds like the ones she had made for Leonora when they first met. She infuses them with more nutrients but, after a thought, re-arranges them so they are not birdlike at all.
She worries that the filly would not eat them in they looked alive.
Hoping that the initial infusion had given the young girl a boost, Isilya weaves a feast of magical, pastel flowers together and they float in clumps to land before Leonora and before the filly.
“I can make it so you can nurse her, if you’d like. Or I can.” The flower seemed less intrusive as a first step, and she smiles a little sheepishly. “But you both need some more strength before we can consider that. Please eat.” The blooms will practically dissolve into the mouths of the two girls, they only needed to pick them up - Isilya sparing no trick or ounce of energy to care for them and make sure that she can keep her promise and make it as easy as possible for them.
There is no judgement, no scorn - as if Isilya could be capable of such things. Only a very pure concern as she hovers near the mother and daughter. Ready to make any adjustments to her methods as required.
And then, when she thinks of something else, she casts a warm smile at Leonora and comments with a gentle laugh. “Yours are fire-proof.”
soft and sweet |
