10-21-2016, 09:33 AM
Aww, she’s shy! I don’t know if shy is a thing I’ve ever quite been, but it sure is cute. Just like with Mo, it makes me want to cuddle up close and snuggle her ‘til she’s happy and smiling and cuddling right back. Oh but she is smiling a little, and I grin back and reach forward to brush her forelock out of her eyes. “Thanks. I’m pretty fond of it. My daddy Romek gave it to me when he found me and I didn’t have one. He calls me Lily, but ‘most everybody else calls me Litha most of the time. Or well, you’re welcome to use the whole thing if you like. I’m not fussy.”
I’m a little too caught up in making a new friend to think about the fact that she might recognize the name and wonder why I don’t live with my daddy, and ask all sorts of questions with answers that are kind of a bummer. When she asks about my home, I shrug. Maybe it’s best to just tell her. “It’s okay. You didn’t know, and it was a perfectly normal question to ask. I’m s’posed to have a home. With my daddy. Or I was going to have a home, at least, I don’t know about supposed to. I guess maybe I wasn’t supposed to, since I don’t. But anyhow. I got mad when Beqanna made my daddy beg for somewhere safe to raise his family. And I said some things Beqanna didn’t much appreciate, and now I can’t go. They can still live somewhere nice, and have peaceful, happy lives there.
“I can’t.”
And that’s really all there is to it, isn’t it? So I seize upon the subject change my new friend offers and flare out my wings, glancing at the lovely red-framed black and smiling. “Oh, it’s fantastic!” I answer, losing my eyes and remembering the feel of the wind in my hair, the world falling away far below. “I really, really miss my fire, but flying is maybe my favorite thing ever. These wings have really grown on me, and I love climbing high into the sky and soaring around, seeing the whole world from so high up! Oh, it’s perfect.” It’s even worth the cold, and the lonely ache of being without my fire.
I’m a little too caught up in making a new friend to think about the fact that she might recognize the name and wonder why I don’t live with my daddy, and ask all sorts of questions with answers that are kind of a bummer. When she asks about my home, I shrug. Maybe it’s best to just tell her. “It’s okay. You didn’t know, and it was a perfectly normal question to ask. I’m s’posed to have a home. With my daddy. Or I was going to have a home, at least, I don’t know about supposed to. I guess maybe I wasn’t supposed to, since I don’t. But anyhow. I got mad when Beqanna made my daddy beg for somewhere safe to raise his family. And I said some things Beqanna didn’t much appreciate, and now I can’t go. They can still live somewhere nice, and have peaceful, happy lives there.
“I can’t.”
And that’s really all there is to it, isn’t it? So I seize upon the subject change my new friend offers and flare out my wings, glancing at the lovely red-framed black and smiling. “Oh, it’s fantastic!” I answer, losing my eyes and remembering the feel of the wind in my hair, the world falling away far below. “I really, really miss my fire, but flying is maybe my favorite thing ever. These wings have really grown on me, and I love climbing high into the sky and soaring around, seeing the whole world from so high up! Oh, it’s perfect.” It’s even worth the cold, and the lonely ache of being without my fire.