daedalus ---
If there is an emotion that Daedalus knows more intimately than brooding, it is love. Isilya surely loved all of her children equally, but the stallion grew up telling himself he was made with a little extra love. Because his mother spent months breathing his life into a tree, whispering to him, and welcoming him heartily when he was finally big enough to stumble onto the ground—pure magic.
“Touched by the moon,” she had whispered. “Daedalus.”
“You’re very welcome,” Dae murmurs, gravelly voice just an octave above a whisper. He shifts backward, leaning to one side to get a better view of his new companion. The delicate nature of Dear’s doe-like features reminds him of all the little details Isilya had molded into his creation. He smiles, warmed.
A quiet, gentle laugh escapes Dae’s throat as he considers her question. His gaze flicks to all the green around them as the perfect words form on the tip of his tongue.
“I have one parent, my mom. Isilya. She’s a magician. We lived in Tephra before . . .” he trails off, feeling that sharp ache that only comes with missing something you don’t know if you’ll ever get back. “But, ah, yes. She always told me how much she loved me. And I always told her she’d never love me as much as I love her and the sky. She always laughed, and told me she loved me again.” There’s a wistful smile on Dae’s face as all the sweetest memories of his childhood splash playfully against the Tephran beaches in his mind.
“I don’t know love like your parents have, but I’ve only ever rarely seen it exist,” he finally adds, a shockingly shy smile on his face.
“You sure are something special.”
-----------we'll have our time when stars collide
@dear