02-04-2022, 08:45 PM
Lillibet
She should have listened to Bolder when he’d told her that Pangea was too hot during the day. Lillibet’s first summer in the red-rock canyon territory had been nothing but sweaty and uncomfortable. Even her alabaster coat has offered no reprieve. It hadn’t taken her long to work out a schedule: remain in the caves and by the river during the day, and then venture out to explore the other parts of her home once the relentless sun dipped below the tall canyon walls. She would always take a few minutes to watch the orange light of the setting sun splash against the upper reaches of the stone before she began her wandering.
Today is no different, and it’s only after the orange glow has faded that the ethereal woman moves away from the river. She chooses a nearby fissure that is dipped in darkness, her own perpetual light providing just enough illumination to guide her down the unfamiliar pathway. A breeze feeds down through the wind tunnel created by the surrounding canyon walls, cooling Lillibet and tousling her lilac-accented mane and tail. She sighs involuntarily in relief and reduces her speed to meandering.
She follows the path as far as it will bring her before it opens up into a wide valley. In the darkness, a familiar stallion and his moonglow are approaching at a leisurely pace. Pangea’s sovereign smiles on instinct as Fyr nears, though she does her best to keep it modest despite the butterfly that flits inside her ribcage at the nickname. “Fyr,” she murmurs back warmly, a greeting just for him. She chooses to pronounce it like his elemental affinity this evening and finds that she appreciates the sudden apparition of the floating, roiling balls of flame considering the dwindling heat of the night.
Pangea. Too warm during the day, too cold at night.
“Still quiet,” she confirms, though her assessment lacks disappointment. She’d never intended for her canyon home to grow to bustling. Simply having a place to call home again is enough.
Her gold-flecked eyes search for his saffron ones, but Fyr has turned his gaze away. There’s tension in the middle of his forehead and in the tightness of his jaw that she had not noticed initially. “What is bothering you?" she asks, once again proving that a healthy respect for one’s privacy is not something she possesses.
