[private] just like the days we'd burn

[elio]

Summer is in full swing in Taiga. The air is hot as the sun goes down, humidity hanging over the trees post-summer rain. It’s steaming, the pine needles and verdant leaves pungent amongst the gelatinous air. Elio thinks the jello air is immense overkill: why must a peaceful summer rain be punished by the anger of heat?

Still, the golden boy presses through what feels like a world desperate to keep him still. He sighs and shuffles over damp pine cones and intrusive mud. Where the forest’s debris scatters, his hooves squelch, and the noise makes him so uncomfortable that he makes a game of hopping between patches of leaves.

“Celina!” Elio yells, suddenly impatient. He doesn’t know he is looking for her until this very moment; but the second he knows, he also knows she needs to show her face immediately. Going too long without seeing her leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and it had certainly been too long.

“CELINA!” This time he bellows her name as he lands with a soft thud. Dark brown soil flecks the red and gold of his legs as he stands still and absolute. A break in the canopy of leaves allows a sliver of dying sun to land directly on his head.

He looks like a prince, leader of the trees, a crown of twigs and thorns upon his head.

Now where is his damn sister?

@[Celina] @[Tiercel]