ask no questions - any

[Lilin]

That flamey tree frightens her.  She watches it from the safety of the pinewood, its dance and its bellow of smoke. But when she asks mother, she only sighs and tells the filly that sometimes the world just burns. The blue girl doesn’t know what that means, but she knows better than to ask ‘why?’  She begins to wonder whether or not mother knows at all. But then, if mother does not know, then who does?  She remembers the grey man and his odd strange flames down his neck. Maybe it is his. Maybe he makes the world burn. She smiles, her nose twitching and she realizes, maybe for the first time, that perfume shared by them – surely by mother and brother, too – on her skin. “Do you think?” She likes the thought of being a pine tree. Or belonging to them, at least. If she had more awareness, or perhaps less wonderful whimsy, she might just be happy that she belongs to anything. But in truth, none of them do. Not mother, or brother, or her. They are stranger shadows; mother keeping to herself and her clutch, bound by nothing but inertia. The princess’ mother had seen that well enough. She tucks her chin in, dropping her bright eyes, “No.” She worries the dirt with the toe of her hoof, drawing spirals and waves in the loose dust. “I was already almost here, myself, really. I come here all the time. And I saw you.” Her little voice grows in haste, grasping for words. She glances nervous up where she last saw the raven perch, “I saw the bird, that is…”  She lifts her chin, “and I’m not scared of it. Of course. So I thought I’d say, hello. I suppose I followed you a bit of the way here.” She stops, breathing a bit heavy.  “Weaver. I’m ‘sister’.” Her short, dark tail flicks back and forth against her rear. She realizes that Weaver is the first girl she's ever met, and she shivers a bit. Brother is good, she loves brother, but he cannot run or play much, really. He likes to keep to mother, and mother had a bad temper. LILIN. Michealis and Aurane's ****Steps taken forwards, but sleepwalking back again. Dragged by the force of some inner tide.