she's the bright hot sun in the cold night
she's the cold black darkness in the starlight
She continued to scowl at him, her own anger rising with each new surge of happiness that he forced upon her. “Better to be a grump than a fool,” she finally managed, although even she had to admit it was not the best of comebacks. Still, there was only so much she could do when she was surrounded by a foreign joy, a feeling that was pressed firmly into her chest, made to live there even though she had no desire for it.
What an irritating little boy.
“Maybe I’m still here…” she started to answer before he continued to talk over her, and she huffed loudly in protest, her pretty face contorted with her frustration. Still, she waited and listened, her fluffy tail flicking uselessly behind her as she considered him. The magic of Christmas? That was absurd. The only magic was the kind that came from within; the kind that let her father pour magic and ice into the air around them, the kind that let her tap into the minds of her neighbors. The only alternative was the kind that was Beqanna and that was not a benevolent magic. That had destroyed homes, leveled kingdoms.
There was no such thing as the magic of Christmas.
Still, she tipped her head to the side and rooted through his thoughts, not bothering to be subtle about it. If he was going to force his powers on her, she wasn’t going to be courteous about her own. “You can control snow and ice too?” she said a little breathily, the promise of power the only thing to ease the sting of her voice. “Let me see.” She had only seen her father and brother control the elements before; it was difficult to imagine this fluffy, wide-eyed colt wielding the same control, but she was interested.
