Got the dreamer's disease
The reminder jogs the memory easily, and Fern’s gaze turns to look out past the window, to the familiar scene beyond rather than just the light that spears through it. It frames the world into something bite-sized, a moving picture that would change in small enough ways they could be counted throughout the day. ”I like it too, except for the storms.” The scream rain, in particular, had not been her favorite.
It should not be startling to see Ever approach. Not when Isla had called out to him already, not when he is part of this home, and yet the first sight of him inspires such an abrupt urge to be back in the safe border of her mother’s thighs that Fern pulls back onto her heels quickly, rising. She reaches out with one arm and side steps until she connects again with a part of Isla, unwilling to take her widening eyes off Ever. That contact is enough to root her, strength offered by proximity.
It’s all the boost she needs to settle, familiarity sparking rapidly as sense beats out impulse. Her cheeks puff up as she pops in another big breath. ”Dad,” she greets, excitement lifting her up onto her tiptoes suddenly, grip forgoing Isla as if never needed. ”I’m big now!” She moves to him as if he might need closer proof, afraid of any distance shrinking her unduly. ”See?” she demands, measuring up beside him with a sideways glance, something she’d already made Isla endure before coming home, as if measuring up for an amusement park ride’s height requirement, except it’s approval rather than adrenaline.
Motion stirring outside the window immediately catches her curious eye, and abandoning the reach she started towards her blanket, she instead stills and stares. An audible gasp overtakes her just before she dashes to the window ledge, straining to get as close as she can. ”Look, there’s a cat!” it’s a loud, urgent whisper directed with a sharp glance over her shoulder at both of them, requiring group confirmation of her findings. ”He needs help,” she declares after only a moment longer of observation, which is really just a disguise for desire, not that she thinks so. ”We have to help him. He looks hungry.”
It should not be startling to see Ever approach. Not when Isla had called out to him already, not when he is part of this home, and yet the first sight of him inspires such an abrupt urge to be back in the safe border of her mother’s thighs that Fern pulls back onto her heels quickly, rising. She reaches out with one arm and side steps until she connects again with a part of Isla, unwilling to take her widening eyes off Ever. That contact is enough to root her, strength offered by proximity.
It’s all the boost she needs to settle, familiarity sparking rapidly as sense beats out impulse. Her cheeks puff up as she pops in another big breath. ”Dad,” she greets, excitement lifting her up onto her tiptoes suddenly, grip forgoing Isla as if never needed. ”I’m big now!” She moves to him as if he might need closer proof, afraid of any distance shrinking her unduly. ”See?” she demands, measuring up beside him with a sideways glance, something she’d already made Isla endure before coming home, as if measuring up for an amusement park ride’s height requirement, except it’s approval rather than adrenaline.
Motion stirring outside the window immediately catches her curious eye, and abandoning the reach she started towards her blanket, she instead stills and stares. An audible gasp overtakes her just before she dashes to the window ledge, straining to get as close as she can. ”Look, there’s a cat!” it’s a loud, urgent whisper directed with a sharp glance over her shoulder at both of them, requiring group confirmation of her findings. ”He needs help,” she declares after only a moment longer of observation, which is really just a disguise for desire, not that she thinks so. ”We have to help him. He looks hungry.”
Fern
This world is gonna pull through, don't give up
