02-02-2022, 09:15 PM
Her own glow brights as her uncertainty fades, soft blues and purples joining the area with Fyr’s golden glow. A small smile tugs at her mouth when he moves to reach out and then pulls back - it’s a feeling she’s got inside of her too. They had only really just begun to be friends when Mazikeen had stolen her from the Pampas, and it had been a few years now since she had last seen him practicing with his fire - hadn’t it?
They were little more than strangers, really, but she is grateful to see him.
She shakes her head instead of answering his question of how she is for the same reason she doesn’t step forward and initiate a touch of greeting - she’s a little afraid that she’ll start crying if she does. And if she cries, she’ll have to explain why - and what if she’s told she’s got nothing to cry about? What if she gets told she’s being ridiculous, and there are those who have it worse?
So Sickle keeps those thoughts and the playful instinct to offer hugs to her friends locked up tight in her chest where their hurt can be mitigated.
“I escaped after I was stolen and I tried going back to the Pampas. But… I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t sure if I was ready to call it home.” Her smile twists a little at how silly that uncertainty seems now. “I miss it now, though.” Even if she had been nothing but a captive, even if she had just been a pawn in whatever game Fyr’s mother had been playing, since the disappearance of Wishbone that flower-filled place was where she had experienced the most happiness.
“My friend lives in the forest and I’ve been mostly staying with her.” She offers as an explanation to her whereabouts.
She perks up a little bit as she continues, hoping it's not too obvious how much she'd like the conversation to be focused elsewhere. “How about you? How've you been?”
They were little more than strangers, really, but she is grateful to see him.
She shakes her head instead of answering his question of how she is for the same reason she doesn’t step forward and initiate a touch of greeting - she’s a little afraid that she’ll start crying if she does. And if she cries, she’ll have to explain why - and what if she’s told she’s got nothing to cry about? What if she gets told she’s being ridiculous, and there are those who have it worse?
So Sickle keeps those thoughts and the playful instinct to offer hugs to her friends locked up tight in her chest where their hurt can be mitigated.
“I escaped after I was stolen and I tried going back to the Pampas. But… I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t sure if I was ready to call it home.” Her smile twists a little at how silly that uncertainty seems now. “I miss it now, though.” Even if she had been nothing but a captive, even if she had just been a pawn in whatever game Fyr’s mother had been playing, since the disappearance of Wishbone that flower-filled place was where she had experienced the most happiness.
“My friend lives in the forest and I’ve been mostly staying with her.” She offers as an explanation to her whereabouts.
She perks up a little bit as she continues, hoping it's not too obvious how much she'd like the conversation to be focused elsewhere. “How about you? How've you been?”
@Fyr