"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
09-11-2016, 01:36 AM (This post was last modified: 09-11-2016, 03:54 PM by Lilitha.)
I watch my family fade into the distance, not one of them looking back to check on me. Maybe they don’t know yet that I can’t follow. Maybe in the rush of finding a place to call home, they don’t notice that I’m not with them. But not one of them looks back, not even my dad, and I try not to let my heart break a little bit at the way he’s caught up in everyone else and in going home and doesn’t see that he’s leaving me behind.
I’m happy for them. I am. Even if sadness is welling up in my chest and trying to drown me, even if it’s quenching the fire that wants to flicker and dance along my skin even though every time it does it sears through me, white-hot and agonizing. The fire has always been my friend. And it’s still trying to be. Not your fault, fire-friend, I think, letting the pain crash through me so that the fire can lick along my skin and say hello.
It won’t last long. And I’ve missed it so.
The pain has tears rolling down my face, trailing down my cheeks to splash against the snow at my feet as I slowly start to descend the mountain once again. And I tell myself that’s the only reason I’m crying, that the fire is the only thing that hurts. That it’s the only thing making me want to open my mouth and let agony pour out in a scream that echoes across the mountainside.
Except the tears don’t stop even when I cross the invisible line that steals away my fire and leaves wings in its place. I spread those wings, all red-tipped black and lovely and finally starting to feel like mine, and I take to the sky. I’m not going to walk the rest of the way down if I don’t have to, whether the mountain and the god that dwells there like it or not.
It’s not long until I’m back in the forest, the closest thing to a home I have now that I’m cursed to wander. At least my dad’s happy. He’s got his home, and he’s got his Mari, and his...his four other kids. He’ll be fine without me. He begged and he groveled; he called himself sinful and unworthy, he played the game, and Beqanna gave him everything he wanted.
I’m happy for that last part at least, even if it’s pretty sick the way she made him dance, made them all dance like puppets on strings, made them feel like they were wrong and bad and wicked, and then gave them presents and showered them with love to reward them for their good behavior. It wouldn’t be okay for a boy to treat me like that. I don’t see why it should be any different just because it’s a god doing the damage.
But he did what I guess he had to do, to find a safe place to raise the rest of his kids. To be close to his wife. I wonder if she’s still supposed to be my mama now, or if since she never really got to meet me, maybe she’s just...somebody that I almost knew. Somebody that was almost family, once upon a time. She’s got her own babies now, and Dad’s other twins, maybe a mom is just something I’m not meant to have.
Maybe home and family are more things I’m just not meant to have.
Okay. Enough. I take a deep breath, and as I slowly let it out, I push away all the sad and the hurt and the lonely feeling that’s trying to swallow me up from the inside, trying to hollow out my chest and settle into the place where my heart’s supposed to be safest. Just because I can’t go home doesn’t mean I have to be all by myself, and it doesn’t mean I can’t find a nice cozy spot to call kind of home for now.
I wander through the forest, trying to keep to the shelter of the bigger, older trees. And I find one that looks kind of promising, even, a willow with big drapey branches and a wide, happy base that looks perfect for cuddling up against, though really it’s hard to tell the shape of the ground beneath the snow. Still, I give it a shot, curling up against the trunk of the tree and squirming a little ‘til I get comfortable. Someone will come around sooner or later. I hope. And in the meantime...maybe losing myself in sleep for a little while will ease the ache in my chest a bit. Or at least let me forget it for a few minutes.
I rest my head on my front legs and close my eyes, and try to fall asleep. And when that fails, I just lie with my eyes closed, hoping maybe I'm already sleeping and I'll wake up to find this was all some awful nightmare and Dad's just waiting for me to wake up so we can go climb the mountain and maybe find ourselves a home.
I'm scared. I try not to be, but I just can't seem to help it. First mom is gone, and now dad, and what was supposed to be my new home. Of course, I haven't even met him. Dad, that is. I went there, and I met that really nice guy, Brynmor. He'd been friendly. And hadn't seemed too scared of me, which was nice.
Sometimes I think about going and trying to find my dad again, or my mom. But then I don't, because I get worried. What if this is my fault? I never meant to burn anything down. But the goddess had been so angry. And she had yelled at us. All of us, but what if she was just being nice and not trying to single me out?
It's stupid, I know. Or at least, a little piece of me knows. But my mom didn't want me. Clearly I never belonged in the Tundra. Now, I just don't know. What if no one wants me? What if I don't belong anywhere?
So yeah, I'm scared. But I'm growing up, so I try to at least be an adult about it. But it's hard. I'm not an adult. I'm not a grown up. I don't want to be.
Mostly right now I just want to cry. But I don't want to feel weak. So I blink back the tears and keep walking. I've been wandering the meadow and forest for days, but no one's noticed me. They're all too busy.
There's one good thing out of all of this though. I'm not accidentally starting fires anymore. The falling stars, they're gone. That makes me a little happy. I never wanted to hurt anything.
The thought bolsters me a bit. Enough that I feel like maybe, finally, I can stop for a bit. I'm tired anyway. I'm not even sure how long I've been walking for this time, so it makes sense.
Up ahead there's a nice looking willow tree, it's long branches providing something of a screen against the outside world. It looks perfect for what I need it for, so I slog on through the snow until I can pass beneath it's branches to the slightly less snowy ground beneath. Great place for a nap.
Except I'm apparently not the only one with that idea. I stare at the sleeping filly in dismay, wondering what to do now. She's little (but then, I'm pretty big, so maybe she's just little compared to me), and looks lost, like me. But I don't want to wake her up. That'd be just rude, and we already established I don't mean to be. Or maybe we haven't. I don't remember anymore.
”Uh, sorry.” I whisper the words softly, unable to help the apology, even if she probably can't hear me, before ducking my head. I back up a bit, turning to leave her in peace and maybe find myself another little corner of the forest to hide in.
Oh, footsteps! Maybe it’s Dad, coming to cuddle up next to me or nuzzle me awake! My heart starts to race, even though the steps don’t sound like his, even though the scent of the person approaching is unfamiliar. I keep my eyes closed, letting myself hope just a little longer. Letting myself wish. But the sad sound of a boy’s softly whispered, “uh, sorry,” is enough to coax me out of my little fantasy, and I raise my head and open my eyes to see him backing away.
“No, wait,” I murmur softly, gold eyes wide and sad and pleading. “Don’t go. Please? There’s room to share, if you don’t mind cuddling up close. It’s warmer that way anyhow.” I shiver a little, remembering how cold I am now that I mentioned it. And that’s the only thing that’s making my lower lip tremble. Not feeling lost and alone, and definitely not a desolate aching in my chest or needing somebody to be wrapped around me and holding me and telling me it’s going to be okay.
Those are definitely not tears blurring my vision, because I ran out of those and I’m all done crying. Must just be the cold making my eyes water. I shrink in on myself a little, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly ‘til the hurt is a little smaller. Then I look up at him again, and scoot a little bit closer to the tree. “I’m Lilitha. Or you can call me Litha if you like, that’s fine too.”
Used to be I’d list half a dozen nicknames, but I don’t really feel like a Lil anymore, or even a Lily really. Those feel like happy little baby names, and...and they fit just fine a few hours ago. I sigh, and lower my head back to rest on my legs. “You really can come cuddle if you want, I’d like that. It’s cold. I don’t like being cold, not at all. And this tree is nice, but it is not especially warm, you know?”
Oh shoot. I didn't mean to wake her up. Crap. See? Still messing things up and I don't even have those falling stars following me around anymore. Apparently it's just me.
I sigh before lifting my teal eyes to peer at her. She's black, with a bright red mane and tail, still short, though not quite as fluffy and wispy as a really young foal’s would be. So she's a bit older, maybe almost as old as me. Or maybe older. I'm not much good at judging age, so I should probably just stop trying.
Her offer is so tempting though. It's pretty cold, and it would be so nice to have someone who actually wanted to be next to me, sharing heat. Maybe even being friends?
I try to squash the little bit of hope that springs up, but it's persistent. I can't seem to help it, but I've never had a friend before. And I want one, so badly.
Perhaps she sees my hesitation, but as she repeats her offer, I find myself unable to resist. Turning back, I offer her a little smile. ”Um, thanks. That's really nice.” Pause. ”I'm Moment. I, uh, don't really have any nicknames.”
I'm a little chagrined at that. I didn't know having a nickname was a thing before today. But maybe she won't notice that.
Stepping gingerly around her (trying not to step in her with my big, clumsy hooves. Maybe someday I'll grow into them), I lay down beside her, scooting close so I can press against the warmth of her back. I sigh again, actually almost… content is the word I guess, for the first time in a long time.
I had noticed the way she blinked back tears earlier, and I feel a bit bad for feeling kinda good. But something tells me she wouldn't want me to notice something like that, much less ask. So I rest my chin on her shoulder, doing my best to just share warmth.
”So where are you from?” I ask, because apparently I suck at not being nosy. ”Before, y’know, everything.” I don't elaborate, mostly because, well, it's pretty obvious.
He’s looking me over, and I can see in his eyes that he wants to say yes, even if he doesn’t quite manage it right away. And I look him over right back, doing my best to smile a nice, friendly smile even though it hasn’t exactly been the happiest of days. He’s a little bigger than me, though I think not by much. I must’ve gotten my size from whoever my father was, because my mother was neither large nor especially hairy, and I’m just starting to get some feathering in on my lower legs. I’m still smaller than she was, I think - though really it’s hard to say, since I only knew her for a very short time - but I have pretty big feet, and I remember hers being small, or smaller than mine are shaping up to be anyhow.
He’s also kind of opposite-colored from me, with sort of reddish-brown fur and black hair, though he’s got black on his legs and the tips of his ears and on his nose and lips too, and my red’s just my mane and tail. Well and it’s brighter, but still. “You have pretty eyes,” I tell him as he finally settles down next to me, and I curl up against him, wrapping myself around him so we’re as close as can be and sharing as much body heat as possible. I even drape one of my wings over him like a cozy blanket, even if it really only helps a little bit, and I curl the other one up against my side.
“Moment is a nice name. I’ve never nicknamed anybody before, so if you don’t like it that’s really, really okay, but you could be Mo if you want a nickname, or well I guess Ment or Mome or something but those both sound kinda weird. Mo’s cute though, if you like it. Or you can just be Moment, that’s perfectly lovely too.” Not every name’s meant to be nicknamed, and if he doesn’t like Mo then maybe his is just one that’s supposed to be the whole thing.
When he asks where I was from, I sigh a little bit and rest my cheek against his skin. “I was from the Tundra. Which you’d think with the cold and all would be no fun, right? But I had fire to keep me warm, so it wasn’t so very cold even in the middle of winter. Well, okay, a little, but it was lots easier to get warm again. I can’t seem to chase the ice out of my bones without it. Anyhow, my dad, Romek, he lived there, and he brought me home with him. And now...well…” I trail off, and my lower lip starts to tremble a little despite my best efforts to keep it steady.
“He’s got a nice new home. We climbed back up the mountain to ask Beqanna for a place to live, you know? And she was...well, she made him beg and grovel and I got mad, because my dad’s a really good person. He didn’t have to take care of me. My mom sure didn’t, but he found me and he took me in and he loved me, and made me feel like I mattered. Not everybody’s like that, you know? He’s a good man, and she made him feel like he wasn’t, and I got mad. And I said some things she didn’t much like. So when she gave him and his wife and his other kids and the people who came with us a new home…”
I shrug a little, and my chin juts out stubbornly as I say the rest. “She didn’t let me go with. She’s not a very nice god. Which I guess is kind of obvious, given what’s happened lately, huh? I don’t like her, though. Anyhow. What about you, Mo?” Or Moment, if he doesn’t like Mo. “Where were you from? What’s your story?”
I can almost feel her looking at me, but I don’t mind. I mean, I kinda stared at her for a bit too. It’s not just the red, though I haven’t seen a lot of horses with red hair. My mom is teal. Or well, bay and teal I suppose. The red in my coat is the same shade as my mom’s, but I have black instead of blue. I got teal eyes though, so something to remember her by I suppose (hers are silver, so I’m not completely sure how that works, but I guess it does). Otherwise I’m pretty boring. There are so many brightly colored horses, and I’m definitely not one of them.
I have a horn now though, which is weird. It’s still little and kind of nubby, but I suppose it will get bigger as I grow older. It’s so easy to forget about though, not like the stars. I never even notice it actually unless I catch my reflection in something. But that’s sort of interesting. Maybe.
Otherwise, just plain boring me.
Lilitha seems really nice though. She compliments my eyes, which are, admittedly, just about the only unique thing about me. ”Oh. Thank you.” It makes me feel a bit bad because I haven’t said anything nice about her. ”Your hair is really pretty.”
Oh wow. That was so original I bet. I suck at this apparently. Hopefully this doesn’t make her rethink the whole friendship thing.
She continues on, even offering me a nickname. I smile a bit whimsically at that. Mo. It’s a nice nickname. Almost better than my real name (which had been fine until my mom told me why she named me Moment, but that’s a story for another time). ”I like it,” I whisper in response, smile still lingering on my lips.
Her response to my question causes me to bring my head up abruptly. My eyes widen as I shift my gaze to her face. ”Really? The Tundra?” I can’t help the excitement that suddenly bursts through me. ”Me too!”
I hadn’t met really anyone there, so it doesn’t surprise me that I’d never seen her. Mostly, because of the stars, I have a tendency to hide out. It’s nice to think that I don’t have to do that anymore. Still, she seems kinda sad about the loss of her fire. Of course, she probably wasn’t always accidentally starting fires. Not like me. It had never actually done much to warm me up. Unless I started a fire by accident of course. It’s also why my mom left me there.
The reminder makes my heart feel a bit heavier, and now it’s my turn to blink back tears. I duck my head a bit, hoping maybe she won’t notice. Her story is sad though, so maybe it’s appropriate. ”I’m sorry that happened. She does seem a little bit mean. I’ve never met her, which maybe sounds like a good thing.” Sighing, I lower my head back onto her shoulder. ”She can keep my powers though.”
Lifting my head again, I shrug. Which, let me tell you, is really awkward to do from the ground. ”I guess I don’t have much of one. My mom left me at the Tundra a while back with my dad. I haven’t actually met him yet though. Maybe you did. Offspring, my mom told me.” I pause then, unsure how much to tell her. It sounds really depressing in my head. I can only imagine it would sound worse spoken out loud. ”My mom thought I was, uh, too much trouble, or something.” The last few words of my sentence trail off into a mumble as I turn my head away, doing my best to hide my shame.
Aww, Mo compliments my hair, and he instantly looks like he’s kicking himself for the comment. But it’s sweet of him, so I grin and gently nudge his shoulder with the velvet softness of my nose. “Thanks, Mo,” I say, glad he likes the nickname. It’s my first successful nicknaming, and somehow that makes me pretty happy. “I like it, anyhow. I guess I got it from my mother, she was red where I’m black, and had gold where you’ve got black, which I guess was a really pretty combination. I got her gold in my eyes, and her red in my hair. Well and on the edges of my feathers now, though that’s new. Not something that came from her exactly.”
And not for the first time, I kind of hope the color and a little bit of my build are the only things I got from her. But before I can get too distracted thinking about that, Mo lights up, and boy if he isn’t adorable when he’s excited about something. “You lived in the Tundra too? That’s really cool. I only knew my dad there really, Romek. Did you ever meet him? He’s really nice, and I love him a whole lot. Also he’s got these cool glowy spots just here,” and I trail my nose along the upper edge of his neck, tracing the line of his mane to demonstrate, “and all down his back too. Which is fun when it’s dark out, like fireflies cuddled all close and lighting up the night just a little bit, a soft glow that feels safe and cozy and lovely.”
Oh man, and suddenly I really miss my daddy.
I’m not the only one who seems kind of sad, though. Mo snuggles up against me, resting his head on my shoulder, and I lip at the little bitty beginning of a horn on his forehead. “What kind of powers? I mean, it’s not like, a big deal if you don’t want to talk about it, of course. If it was maybe something you didn’t like and you don’t want to think about it, that’s okay. I really miss my fire, even the tricky bits where it’d flare up when I got scared or angry or excited and I’d sometimes have to hurry and stomp it out so the whole meadow didn’t go up in flames. I was getting way better though. But, I mean, just because I love my fire doesn’t mean you have to love what you had, you know?”
Oh, but he’s telling his story, and that’s very, very interesting too. I nod sympathetically, and his story has me even less impressed than before with the concept of mom. I shake my head with a grumpy little snort. “Well that was dumb of her. But seems to be pretty much how moms work, really. Mine barely even stuck around enough that I could keep up. I had to chase her down just to fill my belly, and then...I don’t know, I guess I got kind of mad and decided if she didn’t want me around I didn’t need her. Good thing Daddy Romek came along when he did, or I’d have been in trouble. I’m sorry your mom made you feel bad, Mo.”
And again, I accompany the words with a touch, a brush of my face against his neck. “I haven’t met your dad, but I haven’t met many people in the Tundra. Just my dad, really, and kind of the two other kids he adopted like me, though I didn’t meet them ‘til after the Tundra didn’t exist anymore.”
He still looks really sad about his mom, so I cuddle him close and sigh. “Well, Mo, your mom was not a very good mom I think. I don’t really know what a good mom looks like, but it’s not giving up on your kid and making him feel bad about himself. I know I’d never do something like that to a kid of my own, if I ever had one. I think parents should be like my daddy, all love and support and stuff, even if you do things that are hard or complicated or troublesome, like with me on the mountain. I think that’s what a mom should do. And a dad too.”
I listen quietly as Litha talks about her mom, and all the colors that sound so pretty. I like listening to her. She talks a lot, but it’s nice. Kind of soothing in a way. I’m pretty sure I could listen to her all day. And she’s so nice.
I’m really glad I met her. I’m also glad she doesn’t seem to mind being my friend. I hadn’t really realized just how much I was missing.
As she tells me about her dad, I find myself a bit wistful. I would never say it out loud, but I really wish I had a dad like hers. Or really any family at all who actually seemed to care about me. I guess it’s just not my destiny. I mean, I’m not really a baby baby anymore, and who wants to adopt someone so awkward and no longer quite so cute or fuzzy or young as they used to be?
I shiver a bit as she traces her muzzle along my neck, but it makes me smile. Shaking my head a bit in response to her question, I pause to think about my time in the Tundra, brief as it had been. Honestly, I had met hardly anyone. ”No. I only met Brynmor. He was nice.” Turning my teal gaze to her, I continue earnestly, ”Your dad seems really great. You’re lucky to have him.”
Her next question makes me a bit uncomfortable. I have never cared for my powers. They’d always caused me so much trouble. It’s also why my mom left me at the Tundra. Shifting, I glance away, but even though she says it’s ok not to talk about, I feel like I can trust her with it, like maybe she won’t be afraid and run away. I mean, she has fire powers of her own, so maybe she’ll understand. ”It’s, uh… well, it’s… I guess I didn’t really love them.” I pause, taking a deep breath to bolster myself. Before, it had been impossible to hide, but I’d never had to talk about it either. ”Actually, I hated it. I had these stars, you see. They would kinda, I dunno, follow me around or something. Like, falling stars. And they’d hit things, sometimes other horses.” I accidentally hit my mom with one once. She had been so not pleased about that. ”And I’d, uh, accidentally start things on fire sometimes.” I caused a rather small wildfire once when I was only a few weeks old, but there is no way I’m telling her that. It’s just so embarrassing.
She’s so nice though, and she apologizes for my mom. I’ve never had anyone to share that sadness with. I love my mom, even now, but sometimes I hate her too. I mean, she tried, sort of. Not hard enough, but she did. She didn’t bring me to the Tundra until I was old enough to fend for myself, so that’s something. And let’s be honest, I was a difficult kid. I’m sure having your son causing trouble all the time (even if it’s not on purpose) can be quite stressful. But still, she’s my mom.
I nod at her words because she makes a lot of sense. I still miss her though. ”That sounds so nice.” I sigh again, a bit confused, and still a bit sad. ”She wasn’t all bad. I’m pretty sure I got the star thing from her though, so that’s not so great.” My mom had lived for her stars, spending most of her time awake at night and cloaking herself in starlight. But something seems to have gone really wrong when I inherited that part of her. ”I wish she had been more like your dad.”
I pause for a minute, looking at her as sadness - for both myself and for her - wells up. ”Will she let you see your dad again do you think? It seems so unfair.” I hesitate briefly before continuing, mostly because I’m hoping my next words won’t offend her. ”I could talk to her for you, if you want. Maybe I can convince her to let you back into your home. You’re so nice, and… and I just think maybe she was too quick to judge.”
My new friend is a very good listener, which is good because I can talk a whoooole lot. I snuggle a little closer, cuddling up to the cozy warmth of his body and wrapping my wings a little bit tighter around us to chase away the cold. “Yeah,” I agree, nodding with my face pressed against his neck. “My daddy is pretty great, and I’m really, really lucky to have him.”
And then it’s my turn to listen, and I can be good at that too. Especially since it’s something that is pretty obviously hard for him to talk about. I cuddle him and let him find the words, even if it’s difficult. And when he’s done telling me about the stars, I rub my cheek against his fur again. “That sounds really hard, Mo. I don’t think I’d love that either. Stars are really pretty far away in the sky, but it sounds like they’re a lot less pretty close up. But maybe if they ever come back, I can help you with the fires. I’m getting good at putting them out; I’ve had lots of practice. Or. I mean, well, I could if my fire comes back…” I trail off, biting my lip. “I guess it’s not the most helpful offer right now, huh? Sorry, I sort of forgot.”
Mo still seems sad about his mom, which is really understandable. I’d probably still be pretty sad about mine if I didn’t have a most excellent daddy to help me get over it. Okay, and so maybe secretly sometimes I’m still really kind of sad about her, but the longer I’m alive the more I think the way she was with me was because of something wrong with her, not with me. Or. I at least hope that. “I wish your mom had been more like my dad too, Mo.” Everybody should have a mom or a dad that loves them like my daddy loves me. Especially nice boys with sad eyes just about begging for a cuddle.
When he asks if I’ll still get to see my dad, and offers to go up the mountain on my behalf, my brow furrows and I sigh. “I can still see my dad. I just can’t visit him there, or live there, or anything like that. He can come to me. I was a little scared at first that she’d take him away from me too, because he’s the only home I’ve ever had. But she didn’t. He came and found me. And thank you. That’s very nice of you. But I don’t think she’d let somebody else plead my case for me. And even if she would, I wouldn’t want you to go through all that just for me. I’ll be fine. I’ve still got my family, even if I can’t live with them.” And if there’s a bit of a stubborn set to my jaw, well, I’m still mad at her and maybe don’t want to be on good terms with her yet.
And then for the first time I think to wonder, and the wondering proves to be an excellent distraction. “Hey...hey, Mo? Do you have somewhere to stay now? I mean, with the whole world changing thing and all? If not, you could...I mean, you don’t have to, so you can say no, it’s okay. I won’t be upset. But if you maybe wanted to, you could stay with me. Or if you want an actual someplace to call home instead of just wandering around, my daddy has room at Taiga. It’s really pretty, and my family’s very nice.”
The way she presses into me is comforting, especially since I find myself sharing some things that are kinda tough for me. I've never shared these things with anyone before. But her wings are wrapped warmly around, and this feels so safe and right in a way I have never felt before. I feel like I could tell her anything and she would understand.
So I do, I share my most awful thing with her, and she seems to get it. I smile at her, relieved and glad that she wasn’t pushing me away, or scared or leery of me like everyone else always has been. In fact, she actually offers to help me, something no one has ever been able to do before. I press my dark muzzle a bit tentatively into her neck, a silent gesture of gratitude. ”Thank you,” I say quite sincerely in response to her offer. Perhaps it is not helpful at this minute, but that she made the offer at all is what really warms my heart. ”Maybe I’ll never have to worry about it again.” I shrug a bit before continuing. ”But it means a lot that you would help me.”
Thinking about my mom still makes me sad sometimes, but as I get older, the memories begin to grow more distant. Maybe one day I won’t even think about it at all. Of course, it has never really occurred to me that maybe it’s not my fault. I mean, I’ve always been so accident prone, and that is most definitely my fault. I guess I could never blame her for not wanting to be around me when most of the time I don’t even want to be around me. At least before, when I used to have burning rocks falling around me all the time.
But Litha, she helps me see, at least a little bit, that maybe it wasn’t all my fault. That my mom should have loved me more, even though I am so much trouble. That maybe there are answers out there.
She continues, answering my question, and that makes me a bit happy at least. Even if I don’t have family, I’m glad she still has hers, even if she can’t see them all the time. ”Good, I’m glad.” I say, nodding my head a bit. ”You deserve a family that loves you.”
And even if she won’t let me plead on her behalf, I still think that the fairy was way too hard on her. I mean, sure, Litha was angry, and maybe she said some not so nice things, but aren’t we allowed to be angry? I mean, I might have been too. Well, I probably wouldn’t have said anything, but I’m not as brave a Litha is. It’s something I really admire about her.
When she continues, saying my name in a questioning tone, I turn to look at her with curious teal eyes. It’s the first time I’ve heard her sound a bit hesitant about saying something, which makes me wonder what she wants to ask. Her actual question catches me by surprise though. My lips form a bit of an ‘o’, though no sound actually comes out at first.
No one has ever actually invited me to stay with them before, and at first I’m too shocked to really reply. When my surprise finally does wane a bit, I feel like my chest is swelling up, and for a moment, tears blur my eyes, but they aren’t sad tears. They’re happy tears. ”Oh.” I blink back the tears, swallowing before continuing. ”That’s… that’s so… nice.” Nodding a bit to vigorously, a duck my head to hide my face from her. ”I would like that. Staying with you.”
