I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings
Relief hits her in a dizzying rush when she sees Kaisel lift his hand in that slightly ridiculous little wave before it drops back to the deck, the sight enough to make her heart stutter and then lurch forward again as if trying to make up for lost time. She draws a breath she had not realised she was holding, lungs burning as the adrenaline crests and breaks, and she is halfway toward calling his name again when the world abruptly decides it is not finished with them.
The Sugartide surges upward as if grabbed by an invisible hand, the sudden buoyant lift ripping the ground out from under her feet, and Flora’s grip tightens reflexively on the wheel as her balance vanishes completely. She drops hard to her knees when the ship dips again, the impact jarring straight through her bones and rattling her teeth, a sharp cry tearing loose before she can stop it. Pain blooms bright and immediate, but she swallows it down with a gasp, palms braced against the deck as the skyship shudders beneath her like a living thing that has just been startled awake.
She hears Kaisel ask about Spice through the chaos, the words threading their way into her awareness even as the auroras smear overhead and the deck rocks, and she searches instinctively for the familiar pulse of the little dragon. There is no spike of pain, no flash of fear along that shared thread, only a distant, steady presence that tells her Spice is still herself somewhere, wings and all, and that knowledge anchors her enough to drag in another breath.
"Good idea," she calls back hoarsely when he mentions getting out of here, her voice shaking but resolute as she pushes herself upright with a wince and grabs for the wheel again, steadying both herself and the ship as best she can. The suggestion of Ludo earns an immediate shake of her head even before she has fully straightened, instinct and empathy overriding fear in the same breath. "No, not Ludo," she adds firmly, unwilling to lure or trap creatures that are only being what they are, even if they have very nearly torn her skyship apart. "Ask Nature Frey."
"Spice?" she calls out, fear and hope tangled together as she scans for the little dragon as she finally hauls herself to her feet, legs unsteady beneath her. Her gaze sweeps the deck immediately, searching through shadows and shattered light for a flash of white scales or familiar wings, one hand still clamped to the wheel .
The Sugartide surges upward as if grabbed by an invisible hand, the sudden buoyant lift ripping the ground out from under her feet, and Flora’s grip tightens reflexively on the wheel as her balance vanishes completely. She drops hard to her knees when the ship dips again, the impact jarring straight through her bones and rattling her teeth, a sharp cry tearing loose before she can stop it. Pain blooms bright and immediate, but she swallows it down with a gasp, palms braced against the deck as the skyship shudders beneath her like a living thing that has just been startled awake.
She hears Kaisel ask about Spice through the chaos, the words threading their way into her awareness even as the auroras smear overhead and the deck rocks, and she searches instinctively for the familiar pulse of the little dragon. There is no spike of pain, no flash of fear along that shared thread, only a distant, steady presence that tells her Spice is still herself somewhere, wings and all, and that knowledge anchors her enough to drag in another breath.
"Good idea," she calls back hoarsely when he mentions getting out of here, her voice shaking but resolute as she pushes herself upright with a wince and grabs for the wheel again, steadying both herself and the ship as best she can. The suggestion of Ludo earns an immediate shake of her head even before she has fully straightened, instinct and empathy overriding fear in the same breath. "No, not Ludo," she adds firmly, unwilling to lure or trap creatures that are only being what they are, even if they have very nearly torn her skyship apart. "Ask Nature Frey."
"Spice?" she calls out, fear and hope tangled together as she scans for the little dragon as she finally hauls herself to her feet, legs unsteady beneath her. Her gaze sweeps the deck immediately, searching through shadows and shattered light for a flash of white scales or familiar wings, one hand still clamped to the wheel .
and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this
