She is like a wildflower
Her sudden high-pitched, squeal echoes through the Celestine, some of the glittering bugs scattering at the sound, but Nova doesn't mind. There's something better! "OH MY GODS!! I love your fur!" The multitudes of iridescent colors catch the dim lighting like a living, breathing rainbow that weaves before her eyes. Nova sits up straight in the grass, her hand reaching now for the dragon instead of the long-forgotten lightning bugs.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees a comically slow progression up the hill, like someone moving through an unfamiliar gravity. Practically humming with a combination of magic and excitement, she calls out, "Is she yours? What's her name? Where do I get one? Will she let me cut her fur?" The questions come tumbling out, barely a breath necessary to plow through them all before she pauses, head tilting to take in the man. "What are you wearing?"
Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees a comically slow progression up the hill, like someone moving through an unfamiliar gravity. Practically humming with a combination of magic and excitement, she calls out, "Is she yours? What's her name? Where do I get one? Will she let me cut her fur?" The questions come tumbling out, barely a breath necessary to plow through them all before she pauses, head tilting to take in the man. "What are you wearing?"
beautiful, fierce, and free
Nova
