Where Smidgen beams up, Lilli feels the smile light up her own face.
This is what she loves. These moments when she can see a face look at her with open joy. The Falabella might not need to hear she is lovely, perhaps she already knows such a thing but the smile that etches onto Lilliana's face gives everything away. There are no secrets or shadows there - just the warmth she has grown to love that floods her veins when she sees it. What else is living for if not these moments?
What is the point of a beating heart if you can't use it to create something beautiful that comes within the echo of a heartbeat?
The joy manifests in Smidgen as she jigs and Lilliana remembers another memory, telling another soul how she hadn't believed in love at first sight. There is tenderness that lifts the corners of her eyes and Lilli realizes just how silly that statement had been. Here, in this moment (with perhaps a touch of fairy magic around them), Lilliana thinks it is entirely easy to love Smidgen. When the little mare grins at her, the chestnut mare lowers her head radiating all the warmth she feels to peer at Smidge and gently says, "I know so."
Lilliana listens with a dreamers heart and the ear of a friend. She listens to what it must feel to have sky at your beck and call - the world, really. For a moment, she is tempted to ask what troubled thoughts feel like in the clouds - do they feel as heavy as they do on the ground? It is there and gone in a glimmer of sky blue.
There are some things that you can't, shouldn't, shed light on.
There is enthusiasm that follows, laughter that comes when Smidgen exaggeratedly shivers at the mention at the density of clouds. Like Taiga's fog, she imagines, rolling in off a morning tide. She can almost smell the brine and damp against the scents of evergreen.
Lilliana shakes her head in laughing protest at Smidgen. How could she ever be upset with the little Fey mare? "Not at all," she says with a spreading smile that is shadowed by the dying day. "We all have our secrets," Lilli confides. And with that, she decides to show Smidgen one. It takes a moment of concentration, finding a thread of silver light that she so often feels but tries so often to ignore. Once her mind wraps around it, Lilliana suprises even herself as she shifts her weight back and lifts her head while lifting her front right leg.
It isn't strong - if anything, it is a subtle glow against the coming dark on her white stocking. Her blue eyes look down at it, a mixture of awe and terror before she nervously glances to Smidgen, wondering if she has scared the first dreamer that she has felt herself around. "This started happening after my time on the Mountain," she says breathlessly. "It comes and goes," she admits while not saying that it most often happens when she gets nervous or those troublesome thoughts build on the horizon of her mind like a coming storm.
Lilliana, who was born without powers or gifts, as ordinary as her coat is chestnut, still feels unsure about Tir's gift most days.
"Taiga," she breathes after she releases it, trying to alleviate the tension that had built itself in her chest. She disperses her weight evenly on her four legs and Lilli lowers her sculpted head again, tilting it slightly in the direction of the Redwoods. "Do you know it?"
@[Smidgen]
This is what she loves. These moments when she can see a face look at her with open joy. The Falabella might not need to hear she is lovely, perhaps she already knows such a thing but the smile that etches onto Lilliana's face gives everything away. There are no secrets or shadows there - just the warmth she has grown to love that floods her veins when she sees it. What else is living for if not these moments?
What is the point of a beating heart if you can't use it to create something beautiful that comes within the echo of a heartbeat?
The joy manifests in Smidgen as she jigs and Lilliana remembers another memory, telling another soul how she hadn't believed in love at first sight. There is tenderness that lifts the corners of her eyes and Lilli realizes just how silly that statement had been. Here, in this moment (with perhaps a touch of fairy magic around them), Lilliana thinks it is entirely easy to love Smidgen. When the little mare grins at her, the chestnut mare lowers her head radiating all the warmth she feels to peer at Smidge and gently says, "I know so."
Lilliana listens with a dreamers heart and the ear of a friend. She listens to what it must feel to have sky at your beck and call - the world, really. For a moment, she is tempted to ask what troubled thoughts feel like in the clouds - do they feel as heavy as they do on the ground? It is there and gone in a glimmer of sky blue.
There are some things that you can't, shouldn't, shed light on.
There is enthusiasm that follows, laughter that comes when Smidgen exaggeratedly shivers at the mention at the density of clouds. Like Taiga's fog, she imagines, rolling in off a morning tide. She can almost smell the brine and damp against the scents of evergreen.
Lilliana shakes her head in laughing protest at Smidgen. How could she ever be upset with the little Fey mare? "Not at all," she says with a spreading smile that is shadowed by the dying day. "We all have our secrets," Lilli confides. And with that, she decides to show Smidgen one. It takes a moment of concentration, finding a thread of silver light that she so often feels but tries so often to ignore. Once her mind wraps around it, Lilliana suprises even herself as she shifts her weight back and lifts her head while lifting her front right leg.
It isn't strong - if anything, it is a subtle glow against the coming dark on her white stocking. Her blue eyes look down at it, a mixture of awe and terror before she nervously glances to Smidgen, wondering if she has scared the first dreamer that she has felt herself around. "This started happening after my time on the Mountain," she says breathlessly. "It comes and goes," she admits while not saying that it most often happens when she gets nervous or those troublesome thoughts build on the horizon of her mind like a coming storm.
Lilliana, who was born without powers or gifts, as ordinary as her coat is chestnut, still feels unsure about Tir's gift most days.
"Taiga," she breathes after she releases it, trying to alleviate the tension that had built itself in her chest. She disperses her weight evenly on her four legs and Lilli lowers her sculpted head again, tilting it slightly in the direction of the Redwoods. "Do you know it?"
@[Smidgen]
but it's all in the past, love
it's all gone with the wind