well baby I surrender 
to the strawberry ice cream
never ever end of all this love

Aisling watched patiently (and with more than a little apprehension) as the green dragon prepared to launch herself off the her rump. Her head was curled around she she could keep Sorcha in view and, despite her motherly misgivings, tried to send reassuring feelings to the green ball of feathers. Aisling was sure she was not the best coach for the dragon, knowing nothing about flying herself, so she had given in to Sorcha's insistence that it was time to try. Like she had been with Larue started testing boundaries, Aisling fretted over Sorcha's ideas of testing her flight capabilities but knew it was fruitless to fight the inevitable. 

Sorcha crouched on the familiar surface of Aisling's rump with her feathery wings outstretched and tail twitching from side to side. The little beast hummed with excitement, wiggling her butt even as she gave a few experimental flaps. She was ready--or she was mostly ready--and she gave into the childish need to turn her emerald eyes to find her bonded. Aisling met the look with a smile and a nod of encouragement. "Go on, a stór,you can do it. With an air of hesitant anticipation, the dragon wiggled down and then jumped. She flapped her wings once, twice, and when that managed to keep her in the air Sorcha, immediately flushed with the pride of success, stopped flapping to pose triumphantly and fell out of the air.  Aisling winced, but the baby dragon-still so unpracticed in flight-was a falling expert, and tucked herself into a safe little ball before landing in the drifted snow.  

"I think you've got to keep the wings going--" the little Thief began to chide, but her attention was pulled away by a familiar squawk. Eyes wide, she swung her head in the direction of the sound, hardly daring to let herself hope but it sounded again through the snowy trees. There was no mistaking Jellybean's rambunctious voice and surely if the griffin was awake than that meant that Johnny would have finally shaken off his summertime slumber. Joy flooded Aisling and with beaming eyes she glanced back down to Sorcha who's red-crested head had poked merrily out of the snow drift. With her own delighted cry, the Green lept up and and scampered to latch onto Aisling's long braid and the two were hurling back toward the cave. 

Two seasons. Was that it? Had it really only been that long since she had seen him awake, heard is voice? She'd seen him after all, seen him still and sleeping day after day in the cool depth of the cave. She'd spoken to him often. She had sat beside him, had listened to his breath, had felt his sugar-sweet heart beat and day after day she had prayed for him to wake. Aisling had felt it pass like the miserably slow drag of eternity. 

The mare skidded to a halt when she found them, Johnny sitting with their little girl tucked close and the blue Mender that Aisling had yet to be acquainted with greeting them both. For a moment she could do nothing but stare, her expression rivaling the sun itself as she drank in the sight of her darling Johnny restored to her. "Oh Johnny!" was all she could manage so near to weeping with relief. Sorcha was not so stoic: chirruping wildly she swung down and launched herself at Jellybean. She'd seen enough of the griffin (sleeping with her own eyes and awake through Aisling's memory) that she already considered them the best of friends and was intent on wrestling her affectionately to the ground.