04-08-2022, 01:50 PM
Valkyrie’s excited smile is mirrored by her sister, though it vanishes from Myrna’s face at the mention of nightmares. Her dreams are mostly pleasant, but they are not always so. She is about to ask her younger sibling if she wants to talk about it, but before she can Valkyrie asks a question of her own.
This topic is much better than nightmares, Myrna thinks, replying: ”I was born with it.” Her shifting has always been a part of her, inherited from both of her parents. But in the silence that follows after, it quite suddenly occurs to Myrna that while she’d been very sure all of her family can shift, she hadn’t ever seen Valkyrie change shapes.
Her brow furrows, but it is not in worry, only thought, as she tries to remember learning her own shifting.
“At first I could only do one shape, a goat. I had to learn all the others and they took longer.” Perhaps Valkyrie’s shifting is just taking its time to emerge, the young mare thinks. Remembering her own lack of patience as a child (with all the omniscience of her own late adolescence), Myrna suspects that such a wait might bother her sister.
Turning her head back to look at the lake, her eyes land on the package brought by the Baltian frogs. She’s been planning on going later, perhaps with a friend, but maybe her sister needs a distraction. “Hey Riri,” Myrna says conspiratorially, “Wanna go to the feast?”
@Valkyrie
This topic is much better than nightmares, Myrna thinks, replying: ”I was born with it.” Her shifting has always been a part of her, inherited from both of her parents. But in the silence that follows after, it quite suddenly occurs to Myrna that while she’d been very sure all of her family can shift, she hadn’t ever seen Valkyrie change shapes.
Her brow furrows, but it is not in worry, only thought, as she tries to remember learning her own shifting.
“At first I could only do one shape, a goat. I had to learn all the others and they took longer.” Perhaps Valkyrie’s shifting is just taking its time to emerge, the young mare thinks. Remembering her own lack of patience as a child (with all the omniscience of her own late adolescence), Myrna suspects that such a wait might bother her sister.
Turning her head back to look at the lake, her eyes land on the package brought by the Baltian frogs. She’s been planning on going later, perhaps with a friend, but maybe her sister needs a distraction. “Hey Riri,” Myrna says conspiratorially, “Wanna go to the feast?”
@Valkyrie