And then it was scary. It got small and moving and ick. She didn’t like it, at all. The air in Ischia isn’t cold, not even chilly, but the solid ground under her body and the way the air feels different than how things were before. But she does like how much clearer the voice is, when mother speaks. And it must be mother; the girl lifts her face to look at mother and nickers excitedly, reaching up to touch mother’s skin in awe. It’s nice to be able to see her. She says something several times, and she supposes that is her. She must be Blue. Mother’s touch tickles and the girl giggles softly, arching her neck and stretching her forelegs out in front of her.
The appearance of a second person, this voice unfamiliar, catches her attention and she focuses her bright gaze on him. He touches her also and she decides this must be father. Why else would he come here now? Her stomach grumbles and she struggles to feet, snorting with the effort but falling only once before she stands between them on shaky legs, turning her back on Brennen and flicking her bottlebrush tail once before going searching along Scorch’s belly, her stomach insisting that she find nourishment.
