.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
ARELI
Do you still believe in love, I wonder?
Do you still believe in love, I wonder?
You never thought that you would get tired of the snow, but as Frostfall drags on, you find yourself missing the green world you had been born into. Everywhere you look is white and gray, and everything you touch is cold and wet, you think impatiently, shaking some stray flakes from your coat. No sooner have you done this than a clump of icy slush drops from a branch above with a smug plop!, making you squeal and bolt away.
As you rocket unevenly off into the bushes, you hear a soft thud and notice that the familiar form usually tucked beneath your wing is absent. Pivoting, you trot a few yards back and reach down, carefully brushing the snow off of the small object you retrieve. The lower half, wrapped thickly with moss and secured clumsily with dried grasses makes your treasured possession hard to discern, but the smirking dragon’s head atop the mess of plant matter reveals it as the dagger Mama crafted for you at the beginning of the season. “Don’t worry, I’ll never leave you behind…Pointy?” you assure the dragon, then shake your head to yourself. No, ‘Pointy’ isn’t quite right, either. Neither were Poky, Prickly, or Spiky. You’d been trying for weeks to come up with a name that suited your horned dragon friend, but nothing seemed to fit him just right. Not-Pointy just stares up at you with his beady little stone eyes, refusing to say anything at all. “S’okay, don’t worry—I’ll get it eventually,” you tell him, adding a careful, “Buddy,” for good measure.
Tucking the weapon-turned-doll under your wing again, you set off through the woods, light eyes scanning the sky for signs of life. Though they had been much hazier then, you had seen specks that Mama said were birds flying south for the winter. Some places, she explained, were warmer and didn’t get as much snow. At the time, you’d thought the birds were crazy—who would want to miss out on all of this awesome white stuff? Weeks later, you knew exactly who: you. And so you were marching south (as far as you could get in half a day anyway) to escape the cold.
“I th-think you’re gonna like it…Jerry?” you murmur to the little stone dragon through chattering teeth, trying to get away from the string of P-names that you’ve disastrously tried lately. Jerry doesn’t sound right either, but you keep going for conversation’s sake. “I’ve been here before, with Mama and with ‘Lios. There’s lotsa places to play hide’n’seek, or tag, ‘n’ stuff like that.” Of course, playing with Jerry, no Gary, no—anyway, playing with him won’t be as fun as with Ilios, but hey, you’ll still have a good time, right? You’re no stranger to creating your own entertainment; after Ilios had gone to live in the Dragon’s Throat, you’d lost the only playmate who was remotely close to your own age. Thinking of your brother, you glance down at the glass pendant that hangs around your skinny neck and pause to press your muzzle softly to the golden wolf that dances on the face. The pain of his departure is no longer as raw, but you still miss him every day.
You continue on through the trees, slightly more subdued, until a familiar scene unfolds before you. The willows are covered in a light blanket of snow and frost, but you can see patches of green here and there, and that’s enough to lift your spirits. “We’re heeeere!” you inform your dragon in a sing-songy giggle, then dart into the grove to play amongst the crystal curtains. You hope Alfred (no, again) will like this place as much as you do.
"speech"
@Zekle and Squishy
![[Image: areli_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgh47.png]](http://orig05.deviantart.net/fac3/f/2015/290/f/c/areli_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgh47.png)
