10-16-2021, 09:14 AM
Her mother hugs her back, and Myrna knows that all is right with the world again. She smiles against Mazikeen’s shoulder, her eyes still closed. She imagines the mysterious grandfather, the one who cannot shift.
Would it be strange, she wonders, to be trapped in a single form? Or is it more comfortable to never have felt the allure of unfamiliar shapes, to never know the thrill of pulling on a new skin? Though she can only keep her goat shape for long, the girl still likes to rifle through the others, donning them for a few moments and letting her imagination run the rest of the way.
She’ll have to ask him when she meets him, Myrna decides. He has orange eyes, her mother tells her, and she looks up at her mother’s tear-glittering gaze. Her irises melt to the same shade, losing the stormy blue for molten orange that remains even when she giggles and pulls away from her mother’s gentle tickling.
“He must get that from me,” Viszla says sagely, unaware of how inheritance works; only knowing that families share things (like eyes, and sometimes but not always shifting). She does try to be very patient, and now she will be being her best to be nice and kind to make sure Mazikeen doesn’t leave Hyaline.
Still leaning against her mother’s side, Myrna closes her eyes for a moment - just a moment. She isn’t falling asleep, just resting her eyes, but her voice has gone a little soft when she asks: “Do you have a brother too, Mama? What about a cousin?”
@Mazikeen
Would it be strange, she wonders, to be trapped in a single form? Or is it more comfortable to never have felt the allure of unfamiliar shapes, to never know the thrill of pulling on a new skin? Though she can only keep her goat shape for long, the girl still likes to rifle through the others, donning them for a few moments and letting her imagination run the rest of the way.
She’ll have to ask him when she meets him, Myrna decides. He has orange eyes, her mother tells her, and she looks up at her mother’s tear-glittering gaze. Her irises melt to the same shade, losing the stormy blue for molten orange that remains even when she giggles and pulls away from her mother’s gentle tickling.
“He must get that from me,” Viszla says sagely, unaware of how inheritance works; only knowing that families share things (like eyes, and sometimes but not always shifting). She does try to be very patient, and now she will be being her best to be nice and kind to make sure Mazikeen doesn’t leave Hyaline.
Still leaning against her mother’s side, Myrna closes her eyes for a moment - just a moment. She isn’t falling asleep, just resting her eyes, but her voice has gone a little soft when she asks: “Do you have a brother too, Mama? What about a cousin?”
@Mazikeen