The white filly apologizes and Holocene merely rolls her slim shoulders in a kind of shrug. This makes the leaves shudder and sing and she makes no effort to contain the grin the music coaxes out of her.
“Do you hear that?” the girl asks and rolls her shoulders again just in case the winged filly missed it the first time. How easily the woodland creature becomes distracted, delighted by all of the sounds she creates simply by being alive. She has already forgotten about the girl’s apology, though it had not been necessary in the first place. Holocene did not mind waiting.
But the winged filly’s question drags her back to the present, reminds her that she’d been looking for something. She blinks those glowing eyes, peering down at the forest floor again. She has already forgotten what she’d been looking for, too. The corners of her pale blue mouth turn down in a brief contemplative frown before she shakes her head and lets out a single peal of laughter.
“I don’t remember,” she admits, “I guess it wasn’t important.”
She thinks she must have been looking out for anything that might pose any threat of danger. She must have been looking out for anything that she might snag her tail on.
It is then that she catches sight of the fireflies and her thoughtful expression collapses around the soft edges of unfettered joy. “Look at those!” she cries, unaware that the little lights are drawn to the winged filly. “Have you ever seen anything like them?”
@[Elegance]