LET ME LIVE THAT FANTASY


♕

The girl was a collection of barely-assembled chaos, following her sister in a blinding cyclone of movement and motion. Her exuberance was wild and silly, a constant swirl of spins and curls, coiled together in a tempestuous, mercurial noose, like a top, like a racket, giggling all the while, laughing at the wind between her wings. There was always a strange temptation along her feathers though, as if they were meant to do something other than ripple above the ground, and she’d give them a fond flap or two, watch them twitch and shudder. She lost her sibling at some point, distracted in her aptitude for zest, after they’d drifted away from the breaking coast and the savage, enticing waves, and she’d been irritated, exasperated (scared?), thought the other little flower child was gone forever, down into the raging abyss or torn away from her – but her other senses kicked in, following the trail of butterflies and sweet, florid scents – and she wasn’t at all surprised to find her down towards the oasis, amidst a gathering of other youths.

She raced down the hills and valleys, shouting “Clem!” at the top of her lungs because that’s all she knew, and “Iskra!” at recognizing the boy gilded in brown and blue, only ceasing her vicious pace when she nearly barreled entirely into her twin’s orange frame. “What are you looking at?” She emboldened with outright curiosity and audacity, lowering her head to glance at the tiny thing nestled between all of them, barely noticing the other, older girl until a few moments later – fascinated entirely by the reverberating noises coming from the newborn beast. “Cool!” The child nearly reached out to touch the lemur, but perhaps a sudden need for self-preservation stopped her (or her experience with mother’s dragon; because those claws could entangle, protect, and possess; maybe this one’s could too), and instead, she spent some greater moments of silence merely staring. She had a million and one inquiries floating through her mind, ricocheting, beating, pulsing with an intense cacophony of sound (what was it?), but she was afraid she’d missed a greater part of the conversation, and instead would be made to listen to latter halves rather than wholes. It’d been her error and mistake anyway, to be too indulgent on her own amusements and diversions, so the girl tried to settle, tried to maintain some equilibrium, brandishing a smile at the completely unknown filly. “Hi! I’m Melita!” Then she struggled with something else to say, especially after her abrupt interruption (somewhere she was sure her mother would insist it was rude, but if nobody else minded…), polishing the rest off with a grin and a compliment. “I like your companion! What does it do?” She wanted to tell the others all about their mother’s bonded, how it soared, how it shielded, how it clutched prey between its talons, but it was entirely too much for the moment, and she had a more difficult time simply tucking in her wings and managing repose.