» every broken promise

C L E M E N T I N E "Picture yourself in a boat on a river, with tangerine trees and marmalade skies." Clementine had struggled with the adjustment to this place.  Melancholy rode heavily on her shoulders even as she tried to fight away the dark clouds. She knew there had to be sunshine somewhere.  But with every passing day, the rain fell.  Both literally and metaphorically.  The flower child soon began to understand that this was a world where she’d have to make her own sunshine.   She was finding that was easier said than done. The absence of her mother left a tangible hole in her heart.  Clem felt as if she could feel her mother’s absence some days, a gaping open wound.  But Melita was her saving grace. They’d keep each other safe. Whole. That faith was keeping Clementine going.  With a small huff, the flower-girl pulled herself from the shadows, steeling herself for another confrontation with the unknown.  She wasn’t brave by nature but she wasn’t afraid, either.  Spotting Melita and Iskra, some of the heaviness lifted from her heart - the physical reminder that she wasn’t alone here helped lift her spirits.  The girl wove through the others to stand closer to them, the smallest of smiles blossoming on her lips as she made her way over.  Prudence let out a series of chirps from her nest between my ears, nestled safely in my crown of flowers. Clementine brushed her muzzle over Melita’s neck - a near automatic gesture when she stepped alongside her sister now - but recoiled when she met something sticky. Clem discretely wiped her nose on her foreleg, alarmed to see the black residue left there.  “Melita, you’re leaking,” Clem whisper-yelled, urgently, immediately both concerned and confused by this development.  She looked at Iskra in a panic, wondering if he’d noticed, before looking back at her sister - shifting from foot to foot uneasily.   image credit

@Melita
@Iskra