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Larue
Small, lemon-freckled ears swivel and perk as an equally lemon-freckled and pink-dusted head flew up. Was that a griffin? A cockatoo griffin? A JELLYBEAN griffin? Candied, teal eyes were wide as a bit of grass (—mom insisted she eat the stuff, and had pretty much kicked her off the teat—) hung from her pink muzzle. “Beans?!” Her excited yelp barely left her lips before she was sprinting towards the source of the squawks, which was (in fact) their cave.
The tartlet was a streak of yellow barreling across the meadow—“DAD!”—and she showed no signs of stopping as she neared the sitting, slouched form of her pops. He had been sick for ages, and though mom was definitely cooler than the little filly had originally thought, she still wasn’t dad. And mom was always so busy with sneaky, stealthy things…
But now, “DAD YOU’RE UP!” Her shriek was muffled at the end as she careened, full speed, into his sweet, sugary chest. “Heya, Beans,” her greeting to the crazy excited griffin was also muffled by pop’s chest, but she shifted her head so that she could peak a single, bright teal eye at her, rather that it being mashed against Johnny’s chest.
However, slowly the exhilaration of her dad finally being out (or nearly out) of the cave tempered, and she shifted backwards, bright eyes narrowing slightly, “Are you comin’ outta the cave?” Her voice was accusatory to hide the burgeoning hope the grew in her chest and lit up her eyes.
The tartlet was a streak of yellow barreling across the meadow—“DAD!”—and she showed no signs of stopping as she neared the sitting, slouched form of her pops. He had been sick for ages, and though mom was definitely cooler than the little filly had originally thought, she still wasn’t dad. And mom was always so busy with sneaky, stealthy things…
But now, “DAD YOU’RE UP!” Her shriek was muffled at the end as she careened, full speed, into his sweet, sugary chest. “Heya, Beans,” her greeting to the crazy excited griffin was also muffled by pop’s chest, but she shifted her head so that she could peak a single, bright teal eye at her, rather that it being mashed against Johnny’s chest.
However, slowly the exhilaration of her dad finally being out (or nearly out) of the cave tempered, and she shifted backwards, bright eyes narrowing slightly, “Are you comin’ outta the cave?” Her voice was accusatory to hide the burgeoning hope the grew in her chest and lit up her eyes.
@Johnny
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