Vinati had not, in fact, seen her father's discomfort, too wrapped up in her work (read: in making Gaucho the perfect piece of art) to notice.  When she and his companions finished and the stallion began to lift his head, the girl held her breath; a broad grin broke over her face when the trinket did not fall.  Gaucho's nuzzle was a welcome bit of affection, and the filly giggled happily as she tried to bump her nose against his lowered forehead.  They made their way quickly to the oasis and into the water, where the WildFire began to inspect their handiwork.

As Gaucho twisted his head this way and that, Vinati was pleased to see that the light reflected just as well way up there as it had on the ground.  As the stallion studied it, his daughter watched eagerly for his reaction, fully expecting him to grin and praise her, as he had been doing since the big reveal.  To her surprise and dismay, his face almost seemed to fall, a neutral expression replacing the good cheer that had been present a few moments before.  Was he disappointed?  Did he not like it after all?  Was it not positioned well enough?  Did he want them to take it out?

He turned to her and she tilted her head to the side, her ears flicking back and forth nervously as she awaited his judgment.  Her tiny heart quickened as she considered the possibility that he didn't want her gift after all.  No, she thought, He has to like it.  But her mental confidence was, at best, a bluff.  Gaucho the WildFire was a warrior, and she was all too aware that he most certainly did not have to like the delicate rose ornament.  She was too young to know or care about femininity, but she knew that her father could be hit quite hard in battle, and that her crystal would be unlikely to withstand a direct blow.

Neutrality gave way to a frown.  Vinati stood still, her legs splayed comically and her ears pricked attentively towards her father.  Her eyes grew rounder as her father grew closer.  She was not afraid of him, but of his coming words.

"IS PERFECT," he roared suddenly, causing the filly to jump with surprise.  She squealed as the stallion leaped forward, splashing beads of water all over her before enveloping her in his flaming wings.  She shrieked with laughter, raising onto her back legs to brace her knees against her father's chest, where she would better be able to reach his face.  As he nuzzled her forehead and mane, she snuggled against him happily.  "Anha zhilak yera, ave."


Anha zhilak yera, ave. | I love you, Pa.