[SE] The Candle and the Mirror

YOU SAID THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE MOON IT ROSE TOO SOON AND WE'RE DOING WHAT WE SHOULD Amalia laughs, suddenly a little bit abashed, the ferocity of her threat an echo on her lips. Jigano responds with his usual grace, but it is Rory for whom she is concerned, unsure if she has overstepped her bounds. They are not siblings, are not family- Rory has a sister already, and no further need for her. The wolf does not smile, concealing silver fangs behind dispassionate stoicism. For a moment there is a cloud between them, obfuscating the girl's view: he is hidden from her, made distant by her attempt to bring him close, and she wavers, regret a raising tide against her mind. The moment passes, as they always do, crumpled away and wiped clean, only the streaks of it remaining, invisible if she does not look too close. For once the girl's vibrancy outshines her anxious mind, burning holes in shaded hopes and leading her to push for more. She wraps herself around Rory, takes solace from his blank expression by falling back, behind, unwilling to surrender her hold on him and hopeful he will not ask her to. The teasing continues, warm exchanges shot back and forth. Is this what family feels like? Warm and welcome, even when you make mistakes? Her grandmother was kind and accepting, always forgiving, always wearing a smile- but when she died that all died with her, and Amalia was left with nothing but Rishima, the brightness she once new eclipsed by the moon. But at least a lunar eclipse casts light: it was only after her mother died that the child knew real loss, found herself utterly bereft and alone. And now - and now - what is she, exactly? Jigano calls her sister, Rory calls her radiant, Deimos calls her brave. Is she any of these things (is she all of them)? And does it matter- because if they believe her to be all this, what can she do but aspire to oblige? Tsk'ing again, the girl shakes her head, underwhelmed and unimpressed by Jigano's failure to rise to the bait. "Sounds like an attempt to back out. If you were afraid to compete you might have said so." Mischief lightens the barbed words, sparkles and softens their jagged ends. Stepping away from Rory's side, she sighs a little, reaching back down to rummage through her bag. "And now you're trying to escape our traditions... I suppose you wouldn't even want my third candle, hmm?" From the pack the girl extracts it, this one yellow, a beeswax thing. Amalia hands the red to Rory before carefully inspecting the two that remain, spinning them lightly in her hands, her dark eyes glittering with playful challenge as she glances, sidelong, at Jigano. a m a l i a You said it's life that moves too much We're losing touch But I'm not losing you