» The Tree of Light

WAKER

She's off somewhere else, lost in thoughts with her starry eyes glued to the matron. You find a smile touching your face, that mixture of brotherly affection and something else spreading pleasantly through your body. You're not sure about her age—half the time, you're not sure about your age, either—but at times like these, she looks so.. young. It makes you want to ruffle her forelock with your nose, but you also don't quite want to break the spell of the moment. Here, in the snow that is cold but not too cold, with the glittering, restored tree and the pale but warming sunlight, you feel happy. At peace. You don't want the moment to ever end.

Then she snaps back, and you feel like you're suddenly awfully close and up in her face; offering a bashful grin you take half a step back. She turns to study the charm, and you watch her with what feels like a frown, as if her declaring what it is is suddenly the most important thing ever. You're not at all sure why you're feeling like that, so you do your best to smooth it from your face.

She doesn't know what it is, either. It's an ember, that much is clear even to you. "Interesting," you offer in a distracted voice, wishing to press your muzzle up against it, as if it would reveal its secrets then. For a moment, you get lost in that thought, until Taivas speaks again. "It is warm," she states, and you feel like turning yourself inside out. Now you really want to press your nose against it, but you remind yourself of the thing called manners and refrain. Instead, you motion towards it again with a quiet "May I?", and if she'd let you, you'll touch it, and if she'd ignore you, you'd keep your peace.

Then, you cast a glance to the barrier, where the scorching heat meets the snow. "We could always try it?" you suggest with a grin, and a dash more excitement than the situation perhaps merits—but you still feel good, and you don't want to lose that.