you hate the crash, but you love the rush
Flora’s heart squeezes at the quick, almost desperate flash of eagerness that lights Theea’s face. She knows that feeling too well—the hungry, aching hope for belonging—and she tucks it away carefully, like a seashell too fragile for rough hands. "You’ll fit right in," she promises, her voice low and certain as she bumps Theea’s shoulder with her own. The queen doesn't mention Seren's recent death, not wanting the other girl to feel like she was going to be slotted into the outline of someone she couldn't hope to match herself against, but gods Flora was sure that her presence would soothe something still sharp and shattered in both of her dads.
When Theea’s gaze swings upward, catching sight of Spice, Flora can’t help but laugh, the sound bright and affectionate. "Yup. That’s Spice," she confirms, following Theea’s awe with obvious pride. The little dragon preens beneath the attention, flaring her wings just enough to catch a shaft of golden light and scatter it like a prism through the leaves. "She sort of... picked me." Flora’s smile softens into something fond and a little bewildered, like even now she can’t quite believe it. "Ronin found her up in the Cordillera. Something had killed her mother and eaten through all of the eggs except for one."
At Theea’s offer, Flora pretends to weigh it seriously, one finger tapping thoughtfully against her chin. "Hmm. You do seem like you’d make an excellent nap pillow," she muses, then flashes a grin. "Careful what you offer, though. Spice is an absolute menace once she’s decided you’re hers. You’ll be finding frozen socks and half-eaten pastries in your boots for months."
When Theea’s gaze swings upward, catching sight of Spice, Flora can’t help but laugh, the sound bright and affectionate. "Yup. That’s Spice," she confirms, following Theea’s awe with obvious pride. The little dragon preens beneath the attention, flaring her wings just enough to catch a shaft of golden light and scatter it like a prism through the leaves. "She sort of... picked me." Flora’s smile softens into something fond and a little bewildered, like even now she can’t quite believe it. "Ronin found her up in the Cordillera. Something had killed her mother and eaten through all of the eggs except for one."
At Theea’s offer, Flora pretends to weigh it seriously, one finger tapping thoughtfully against her chin. "Hmm. You do seem like you’d make an excellent nap pillow," she muses, then flashes a grin. "Careful what you offer, though. Spice is an absolute menace once she’s decided you’re hers. You’ll be finding frozen socks and half-eaten pastries in your boots for months."
