LET ME LIVE THAT FANTASY


♕

“The Endless Blue…” she murmured, a hushed, reverent whisper as Iskra gave her an answer to the systematic cycle of queries and questions, silently wondering just how endless it was and if it stood for any number of infinite things. Were there endless fish, drops of water, rivulets of the sky and clouds? How had it been created? By Gods? By the earth? Her mind raced, barely honed, barely strung together, knotted and tethered and gilded with absolute wonder and fascination, her body positively buzzing with excitement and opportunities – she took a moment to regard Iskra with an absolutely glowing smile, radiant and beautiful, all toothy grins and sunshine dispositions. “Thank you for taking me here!” She chirped and sprouted, a blossoming contortion of movement and motion, pressing her face back to the glass, staring at the depths and animals floating nearby, trying to match them with names and distinctions, but she was quickly distracted by her twin’s appearance (and the excitement, the ebullience continued, energy fervent, eager, bouncing off her in avid, enthusiastic waves), missing the information about the Moon Goddess and her many talents; the girl would likely mull it over later, when the night grew quiet or when her dreams couldn’t quite keep her asleep. “Clem!” Her voice burst, echoed across the chamber, even as the other filly came bounding, slipping, sliding, face-first into the glass, and she lowered herself down to her sister’s level, laughing, giggling, at the melee of silliness sparking over their denizen.

At the mention of the rock with fins, the youth gasped, uttered a lovely, earnest shriek, “Where?!” before pressing her face into the veneer again, eyes traveling over each and every moving target, one ear turning to listen to the wiser inclinations of Iskra. “A sea turtle,” she recollected, committing it to memory, tasting the slide of words on her tongue, pausing to take a step back, truly examine and understand the motions of the reptile. “Its flippers are like wings!” She rejoiced, feeling like a part of the undersea world, and in response, drew out her own plumage and flapped them once or twice, likely hitting Clementine with the gentle, soft feathers in the process, giggling at the speculation, before fluffing them back down by her sides. She pondered if she could swim just like the turtle, extending her wings out and stroking, reaching through the water, combing amidst its powerful prestige (she’d have to try the next time she dove down into the depths of their oasis). The honeybee girl listened again to Iskra’s proclamations (something about coral and color; little animals alive with a rush of hues), but couldn’t seem them do anything but remain, and that seemed a bit dull, despite all their beautiful shades, tints, and tones. “What do they do?” She puzzled, nose wrinkling, golden eyes quickly averting to Iskra, presuming him to know anything and everything, a sage amidst the glassy halls. She turned back to her orange sister then, smelled the wondrous scents she gave off, leaning into her downy baby fluff at the top of her crown, whispering in a furtive, secretive tone before laughing again. “We’re looking for whales.”