Cressida is not inclined to laugh often—although that is not to say that she does not find enjoyment in life. Instead, her joy is a softer variety. It’s found in the lilting smile that touches the corner of a silvery mouth. In the flash of amusement in pale gold eyes. It’s in the way her heart leaps at the sight of something beautiful. But she does not laugh quick and easy—not like her brother.
So she enjoys these moments when he draws it out of her. When his sunlight washes over her and she can feel, even fleetingly, like a creature of the golden warmth too. It invades her soul and she can almost taste what it is like to be him. To live within the day. To bask in the summer heat.
It’s an enjoyable, momentary pleasure—but she always finds herself missing her cool dusk.
Still, she smiles at him, at ease in his presence, any guards she may keep up completely folding beneath the trust that exists between siblings. “I didn’t know fish hatched,” she admits, mulling over the thought of it as they walk together. She finds it strange to think of eggs bringing forth both creature of sea and air, but the world was a wondrous thing—and she is certain that she only knows the barest hint of its truth.
“I don’t think so,” she thinks, seriously contemplating the question. “But you never know! Mom does like to be a bird.” She thinks of Alaska in the air, her body morphing and twisting into the avian forms.
“I think I like being a bird too.”
Although not as much as she likes being a deer, she thinks, with a secret smile.
@[Helion]