11-05-2019, 01:06 PM
Celina preens beneath her father’s praise, proudly shaking her head just a bit before she tucks herself firmly against his chest in a hug. He is warm in the autumn chill, and the blue-gold of his soft hide smells familiar. Mostly familiar, anyway, much more like Dad than the blend of Taiga and Mom and herself and her siblings that the filly recognizes instinctively as home. The smell of home has changed a little bit in his absence: more Elio and less of her older siblings, but the sense of comfort it invokes has never varied. Everything is right at last, Celina knows, and though the idea of a present – of her very own bear – is thrilling, she is still reluctant to leave the warmth of her sire’s side.
Still, she is young. Anticipation and excitement win out, and she pulls away to peer eagerly at what Wolfbane has.
The little bits of stone are very small, and even if they had not had the purpose that her father explains, they are very small and Celina is quite fond of little things. She has a crevice in a fallen tree where she keeps her favorite treasures – mostly good rocks and bits of wood smoothed by weather. Not a polar bear, but she doesn’t think a polar bear would look as nice in her mane as these, and so it never occurs to her to be disappointed. She is further soothed that he had thought of her, because she had thought of him quite a lot. This reminds her:
“I tried to stay up for you at night,” Celina admits, finding that she does not have to look up as high as she once did to meet his eyes. “I really did, I promise. But I always got so tired and Momma said it was okay but was it? Were you mad I fell asleep every time?” She babbles her greatest worry in his absence, that she had lacked the strength of will to stay awake long enough to see him. That she might have disappointed him. He came to visit them at night, Mom had told Celina and Elio, always came to tuck them in. He had to be gone by the morning, but sometimes Celina would find a feather from his wing when she woke, and those she keeps with her other Crevice Treasures, each one a sign that he loved them even if she could never see him.
(The egrets with their great white wings no longer settle as easily to roost on Taiga’s beaches as they once had, not with the twilight stalking of a determined dun mare).
Her mind skips quickly from one thing to the next, and she realizes that even though she has been gazing admiringly at the sea stones, she hasn’t told him what she thinks. “They are perfect. They kinda look like my scales! Didja see those? I just got them in the summer!” She lifts her head, showing off her scaled throat, and then awkwardly raises a foreleg so he might see where they continue down her neck to her belly and the back of her legs. Shedding her foal coat had revealed their presence, and Celina has been quite proud ever since. None of her other siblings have them, Mom has told her: she is special. And now she will have her own special stones too!
When he asks if he has done well, if he should try again, Celina’s crooked teeth pull into a sly smile. “Ohhh, you can go back.” She says, failing to hide the giggle that ruins the solemnity of her words, “But! Buuuut. You have to take me too! I want to go on an adventure!” By the end, the enthusiasm has her bouncing from one hoof to the other, all but prancing in place.
@[Wolfbane]
Still, she is young. Anticipation and excitement win out, and she pulls away to peer eagerly at what Wolfbane has.
The little bits of stone are very small, and even if they had not had the purpose that her father explains, they are very small and Celina is quite fond of little things. She has a crevice in a fallen tree where she keeps her favorite treasures – mostly good rocks and bits of wood smoothed by weather. Not a polar bear, but she doesn’t think a polar bear would look as nice in her mane as these, and so it never occurs to her to be disappointed. She is further soothed that he had thought of her, because she had thought of him quite a lot. This reminds her:
“I tried to stay up for you at night,” Celina admits, finding that she does not have to look up as high as she once did to meet his eyes. “I really did, I promise. But I always got so tired and Momma said it was okay but was it? Were you mad I fell asleep every time?” She babbles her greatest worry in his absence, that she had lacked the strength of will to stay awake long enough to see him. That she might have disappointed him. He came to visit them at night, Mom had told Celina and Elio, always came to tuck them in. He had to be gone by the morning, but sometimes Celina would find a feather from his wing when she woke, and those she keeps with her other Crevice Treasures, each one a sign that he loved them even if she could never see him.
(The egrets with their great white wings no longer settle as easily to roost on Taiga’s beaches as they once had, not with the twilight stalking of a determined dun mare).
Her mind skips quickly from one thing to the next, and she realizes that even though she has been gazing admiringly at the sea stones, she hasn’t told him what she thinks. “They are perfect. They kinda look like my scales! Didja see those? I just got them in the summer!” She lifts her head, showing off her scaled throat, and then awkwardly raises a foreleg so he might see where they continue down her neck to her belly and the back of her legs. Shedding her foal coat had revealed their presence, and Celina has been quite proud ever since. None of her other siblings have them, Mom has told her: she is special. And now she will have her own special stones too!
When he asks if he has done well, if he should try again, Celina’s crooked teeth pull into a sly smile. “Ohhh, you can go back.” She says, failing to hide the giggle that ruins the solemnity of her words, “But! Buuuut. You have to take me too! I want to go on an adventure!” By the end, the enthusiasm has her bouncing from one hoof to the other, all but prancing in place.
@[Wolfbane]