candlewax & polaroids on the hardwood floor
Flora’s brows bounce up at Ronin’s praise, the look she gives him bright and smug before her attention drifts right back to the newborn in his arms. "Have you ever thought of asking Vi or Mort to make it so they don’t cry?" she asks, tone light, almost offhand, like she’s offering something genuinely useful. Her mouth curves faintly as she glances up at him. "That’s what I’d do if—" The thought stalls out on its own, her words tapering off without ceremony as she leans forward instead, abandoning it like it hadn’t mattered in the first place. Her grin returns quick and easy as she reaches in without hesitation, slipping the baby out of Ronin’s arms with a confidence that ignores any possibility she shouldn’t, pulling him in close against her chest as she settles back again.
Spice lands neatly on her shoulder a second later, small claws finding their place as the dragon leans in, curious and intent, and Flora tilts her head just slightly to allow it without looking away from the baby now tucked against her. She adjusts him with a small shift of her arms, before flicking her eyes back up to Ronin. "Which one is this?"
Spice lands neatly on her shoulder a second later, small claws finding their place as the dragon leans in, curious and intent, and Flora tilts her head just slightly to allow it without looking away from the baby now tucked against her. She adjusts him with a small shift of her arms, before flicking her eyes back up to Ronin. "Which one is this?"
