Got the dreamer's disease
Not inclined towards an abundance of confidence on the best day, Fern's trepidation about things is usually much more practical than anything akin to self-doubt. What she trusts tends to be rooted in knowledge, however true or not it turns out to be at her age, and the fact remains she has not flown before, so saying she can't fly feels rather correct. It leaves her a bit stunned then when Carlo informs her she did something she's no recollection of having learned, much less mastering. "Do you really think so?" she begs at once of him, her voice teetering on the edge of wonder. She had her eyes closed for most of it, so she hadn't properly seen if she'd been flying or not after all. Majestic isn't something you just say though, and so far he's always told the truth, so there's no reason to doubt him now. Backed up by Calan's apparent expertise in the matter, which qualifies him to educate others, she's entirely sold on the idea that they know quite a lot about flying. "That would be great! I want to be able to go up next time."
She might have demanded they try it right now, such is the bubbling excitement at being better at birding than originally believed, but with doctoring and pretzels abound, it swiftly files itself away as something to be tried again later. "Oh," she considers as Carlo offers a clarifying point, and her head tilts with the consideration. "I didn't study that, but...everyone knows I'm Fern now, the girl, so maybe I did fix him after all?" Another thing she's good at without meaning to be! "I'm like a doctor prodigal." She declares then, meaning of course prodigy, but close enough.
Which is clearly why she needs attendants for her doctor's coat, an addition met with a small turn of her head and a curious eye as Carlo gathers it behind her and Calan settles beside her. Her hands fall away from her face as the terrors of ghosts fade with their reassurances, although her features stay bright with a fresh wariness and respect. The medical procession feels appropriately reverent, and all notions of cunty window owning disperse instead to the royalty of being the prodigal. "Thank you," she says to Carlo, lifting her chin a bit before stepping properly onto the path towards Pretzel Planet with both boys in tow, knees pulling a bit higher than normal in a semblance of a march that seems proper. "Good haunted would be the best kind," she decides, not wanting to make it obvious she never knew there were types until now.
"Leave me?" she wonders, trying it on herself as if that might give her better understanding of what Calan means as they parade onward. Her lips quirk to one side of her face, brows furrowing. "With you guys, I guess?" She hasn't been left before, and while she had been the leaver in this case, the root of it is the same either way, her parents aren't here for perhaps the first time. She seems to notice that the boys are parent-less, and ghost-less, then too, which seems fine since they had a job to do. "Is this how you spend most of your days?"
She might have demanded they try it right now, such is the bubbling excitement at being better at birding than originally believed, but with doctoring and pretzels abound, it swiftly files itself away as something to be tried again later. "Oh," she considers as Carlo offers a clarifying point, and her head tilts with the consideration. "I didn't study that, but...everyone knows I'm Fern now, the girl, so maybe I did fix him after all?" Another thing she's good at without meaning to be! "I'm like a doctor prodigal." She declares then, meaning of course prodigy, but close enough.
Which is clearly why she needs attendants for her doctor's coat, an addition met with a small turn of her head and a curious eye as Carlo gathers it behind her and Calan settles beside her. Her hands fall away from her face as the terrors of ghosts fade with their reassurances, although her features stay bright with a fresh wariness and respect. The medical procession feels appropriately reverent, and all notions of cunty window owning disperse instead to the royalty of being the prodigal. "Thank you," she says to Carlo, lifting her chin a bit before stepping properly onto the path towards Pretzel Planet with both boys in tow, knees pulling a bit higher than normal in a semblance of a march that seems proper. "Good haunted would be the best kind," she decides, not wanting to make it obvious she never knew there were types until now.
"Leave me?" she wonders, trying it on herself as if that might give her better understanding of what Calan means as they parade onward. Her lips quirk to one side of her face, brows furrowing. "With you guys, I guess?" She hasn't been left before, and while she had been the leaver in this case, the root of it is the same either way, her parents aren't here for perhaps the first time. She seems to notice that the boys are parent-less, and ghost-less, then too, which seems fine since they had a job to do. "Is this how you spend most of your days?"
Fern
This world is gonna pull through, don't give up
