anyone;

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails Father won't be here. Nayl has to remind herself when her autumn eyes glimpse the meadow unraveled in front of her. She had only been here once, maybe twice, to see her father and to feel the warmth of his body against hers. There was something about him that she adored and aspired to. She wanted to push herself to make him proud and she promised him that she would try; she wouldn't be wasted space. But then he passed away and her hopes of making him a proud father faltered. He isn't here to see her or to marvel at his time with mother. When she looks ahead she can see him standing above her, breathing warmly against her skin. A feeble grin lifts the corner of her mouth but it wavers when a breeze sighs into her cheek. At first Nayl withdraws and takes a step back toward the way she came but after a moment's hesitation she moves forward again. This time she doesn't stop until she is content standing in the tall grass, grazing, while her mind reminisces. Nayl covet and myrina's creation