Got the dreamer's disease
A short laugh bubbles free as Erebos briefly transforms the tongs into a beast. Fern has crept up little by little, drifting from stations of chairs and tables, each one affording her a period to grow emboldened enough to take another couple of steps forward. The pacifier of her father's fur is behind her, the dark dog sitting quite still on the edge of the party, his eyes a welcome weight on her back. "Do that again!" she exclaims, eyes wide with a newfound enthusiasm for the potentials of utensils.
When he fully turns and notices her, the humor fades abruptly, her body straightening into something taller, feigning a certainty that isn't there. Bluffing is an important factor of survival. He merely chirps out a greeting, waving again, her own hand rising to return the gesture without thought. "Hiiii," she greets back, softer, head ducking to the side a bit where the curtain of her hair could serve as some manner of shield. His question draws her gaze though, and easily swept into answers and the wonder of things, Fern swiftly forgets her nerves and sternly shakes her head, bright gold hair flapping back and forth. "No, is it good? What is it? I am hungry."
When he fully turns and notices her, the humor fades abruptly, her body straightening into something taller, feigning a certainty that isn't there. Bluffing is an important factor of survival. He merely chirps out a greeting, waving again, her own hand rising to return the gesture without thought. "Hiiii," she greets back, softer, head ducking to the side a bit where the curtain of her hair could serve as some manner of shield. His question draws her gaze though, and easily swept into answers and the wonder of things, Fern swiftly forgets her nerves and sternly shakes her head, bright gold hair flapping back and forth. "No, is it good? What is it? I am hungry."
Fern
This world is gonna pull through, don't give up
