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10-28-2016, 09:42 AM
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That’s a royal fern, comes a familiar voice. “That’s it!” she exclaims, quieting (only slightly) to continue, “and it’s for cleaning cuts!” Turning about with a gracious smile already planted firmly on her lips, Maude’s tuft of a white tail lifts as her neck arches in a girlish way. Meeting the gaze of the other filly (Kiada?), the cheerful daughter of the Moon Doctor bounds across what few steps separate them, her voice gaily rippling through the glass building. Her high stepped trot is dainty and contained, cautious to not trample any low hanging branches, stems, or leaves, and, while she’s not so sure about fire in the greenhouse (eyeing the rippling creatures along Kiada’s back with curiosity, for her own sake, and a general wariness, on behalf of the plants), she looses none of her girlish interest in making friends. Maude is about to explain to the older-than-her princess that she was studying ferns, which her father had assigned to her early yesterday morning, so that she could become a Doctor one day, when a woman arrives, her earthen cerndyr companion in tow. Something about the pale woman makes the sunbeam of a girl feel uneasy, perhaps the rippling laughter following her words, or something else about her entirely. Still, she is very pretty, and older than Maude is, so she tries her best to be polite, though her exuberant smile becomes a much tamer one (though it flickers for a moment into its wild, natural state at the absolutely adorably gentleman-like dip of Tin’s antlered head). “I’m Maude,” she says, her own small antlers ribboned with copper and adorned with pearls that shimmer as she curtsies, one cloven hoof crossed over a bending leg, and her neck gracefully bowed, “and yes, I am!” Quite proud of her choice of work, but still naïve to the often horrible truth of the healing arts (unpreventable death, withering sicknesses, foals born breathless and cold, war), her smile and gleaming gaze reveals her innocence. To her, being a Doctor meant bringing babies into the world to happy families, mending minor cuts, and, of course, working in the garden, or about the world gathering things to grow in the greenhouse, or to use in her craft. Even though her mother had disappeared, Maude’s faith in the goodness of the world had not been tarnished; her hope was still as vibrant and unbreakable as ever. It was good to be young, and still in love with the world. “Are you studyin' to be a Doctor too, Kiada?” she asks the appaloosa filly eagerly, her pretty, spring green eyes widening hopefully as she looks back to the princess. |
@Kiada
Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone.
