There was something else, within her, beside her, and for a few, scarce, trifle seconds, she was terrified. It glistened, warmed, a compassionate, gentle embrace, but it was inside her frame; and she was no longer alone, sharing feelings, sentiments, curiosities, excitements, and apprehensions, and the entire perception was an explosion in her chest. But she reached out too, because this child sometimes had more boldness than sense, whispering into the strange, altering abyss, silent on the outside, inwardly hushed, ensnared, and secretly enthralled. Is that you? she pressed, questioned through the flickering haze, and her eyes watched as the tiny, cherubic bird nodded just the once – and Melita loosened the breath she was holding.

She had never really understood her mother’s bond with the special, ivory dragon. A’mal had always been more than a pet – nurturing, protective, a confidant, but now she could comprehend how and why. They were connected, bonded through emotions and wavelengths, capable of assimilating between the pair – inaudible and soundless (something Melita had never been), conducting actions with the greatest of ease.

Now she had the same.

It made her almost weep. She giggled instead, muffled her content, buoyant, happy laughter, the terror gone, the horror stripped away, every jovial notion bounding into her core, lifted, aloft, ignited, a passionate, zealous, ardent tribute to the fervent being clutched and shivering in front of her. The girl still had no idea what the beast was, but it didn’t matter. She (somehow, she knew, on instinct, on premonition, that she was joined by another of the feminine discord, and they’d wreak so much havoc together) was hers.

The others talked, and she listened, scarcely, curling into the babe, feeling the little life glowing, sparking, against her chest and forelegs as she wrapped her head over its diminutive figure. “I can keep her warm,” she promised, nodding briefly to Akeli for her incredible insight and forethought; blessed in so many significant ways (for newfound friends who knew just what to do, for sisters who assisted and delighted – fathomed the thing with feathers and electric waves was a bird).

“We’ll have to ask mother,” Melita conspired, grinning at Clementine, at Akeli, presuming their golden dam was cognizant of anything and everything, even unknown creatures dropped from storms. Then, quieter, a hush suddenly fallen over her, as if everything were wrapped up in this pivotal decree, her eyes dipped to stare at the blue eyes fastened on her – like the sky, like the ocean, like potency and precision. “I'll name her Sila.”

She nodded, confirmed the calling with a stroke of her head, with the soft, dulcet touch of her maw upon the wet, baby down on the child’s crown, and sighed, completely content. To the others though, for she wouldn’t ignore them, out there in the pools and mirrors, she directed another beaming smile, pondering over how nature preserved other little ones, crackling and waiting. “Perhaps you can go see!” She encouraged them to wander, to be as lucky as she, extending her muzzle into the various directions, across the mighty plains, where they could stumble upon fortune too.

Melita

let me live that fantasy