Got the dreamer's disease
Fern isn't so certain she'd describe colored ice like this as pretty, especially not at the core where the colors start to mix and become a sort of, deep blurple (black purple). She would call it tasty, most likely. Perhaps, overwhelming, if only because the flavors all start to blur deeper in. She'd also say its colorful, which seems close enough to pretty for most people. "It's interesting!" She lalnds on instead, smiling around the sound of it to prove she means that positively, though she's never understood how interesting could be anything but.
A soft giggle escapes her, more relaxed than amused as Nova's bright gaze seems to catch more light and shine, full of hope and simple ease that isn't usually seen in adults. Fern's positive bags and shadows are part of puberty. "No, I'm good," she says with a soft shake of her head. "I switch flavors every day, and today is fruit punch day." Today is not rainbow medley day.
"What do you mean by disappointing?" Fern asks carefully, certain she heard Nova wrong, or the meaning has slipped past her. "You wouldn't actually want real tiger's blood on this, would you?" More than anything, the horror of it escapes it past, "it'd melt everything!" Cold clearly isn't an option, because then it's too thick and heavy.
The conversation cannot measure up to the adoration of the nearby birds. They snap up her flavored ice readily, and she's scattered enough that they each get some without argument. As Nova attempts though, Fern is just about to inform her that they shouldn't get too much, because it's a treat for them too and their bodies are much smaller. Instead, she's nearly as frozen as the birds, but her reason is due to concern. "Why did they do that?" she whispers with a frown. "Ive never seen that before. It was so... odd."
A soft giggle escapes her, more relaxed than amused as Nova's bright gaze seems to catch more light and shine, full of hope and simple ease that isn't usually seen in adults. Fern's positive bags and shadows are part of puberty. "No, I'm good," she says with a soft shake of her head. "I switch flavors every day, and today is fruit punch day." Today is not rainbow medley day.
"What do you mean by disappointing?" Fern asks carefully, certain she heard Nova wrong, or the meaning has slipped past her. "You wouldn't actually want real tiger's blood on this, would you?" More than anything, the horror of it escapes it past, "it'd melt everything!" Cold clearly isn't an option, because then it's too thick and heavy.
The conversation cannot measure up to the adoration of the nearby birds. They snap up her flavored ice readily, and she's scattered enough that they each get some without argument. As Nova attempts though, Fern is just about to inform her that they shouldn't get too much, because it's a treat for them too and their bodies are much smaller. Instead, she's nearly as frozen as the birds, but her reason is due to concern. "Why did they do that?" she whispers with a frown. "Ive never seen that before. It was so... odd."
Fern
This world is gonna pull through, don't give up
