Dawn, and already the baker is stirring, having risen like clockwork before the sun. It is a relief to be home, returned to routine, as grand as her adventure may have been. Padding down familiar stairs into the kitchen is like living a memory, as easy and pleasant as any dream. She does not have to think, to worry: the steps have been laid out for year, a play written by authors far wiser than she. Fetch the kindling. Stoke the fires. Gather the dough she'd left outside, loaves set to rise with wild yeast, fermenting and bubbling overnight.
There is only one difference in her routine, small but significant and not to be ignored. For Amalia has an assistant now, a shadow who swims along in her wake and investigates the goings on with endless curiosity. With every step the girl takes, every action she employs Jyoti is there, peeking and peering and tasting along, her own song a playful harmony to the baker's hum. The starwhale is fascinated by her new environment, endlessly interested in everything she can see. It delights Amalia, but makes it somewhat a challenge to work; and so it is with no little relief that she watches the child dart out of the kitchen, entranced and enamored by some new sound.
Sugar and Ronin are not the only ones gawking through windows, trying to see through curtains and glass. From within the shop another appears, blue as midnight and littered with stars. Jyoti has heard the dragon's arrival and swam out to investigate, ever curious, ever nosy, leaving Amalia to tend the oven. The whale trills a merry greeting, poking her beak from between the curtains before darting back inside, starlight like laughter marking her wake, an invitation for further games.
There is only one difference in her routine, small but significant and not to be ignored. For Amalia has an assistant now, a shadow who swims along in her wake and investigates the goings on with endless curiosity. With every step the girl takes, every action she employs Jyoti is there, peeking and peering and tasting along, her own song a playful harmony to the baker's hum. The starwhale is fascinated by her new environment, endlessly interested in everything she can see. It delights Amalia, but makes it somewhat a challenge to work; and so it is with no little relief that she watches the child dart out of the kitchen, entranced and enamored by some new sound.
Sugar and Ronin are not the only ones gawking through windows, trying to see through curtains and glass. From within the shop another appears, blue as midnight and littered with stars. Jyoti has heard the dragon's arrival and swam out to investigate, ever curious, ever nosy, leaving Amalia to tend the oven. The whale trills a merry greeting, poking her beak from between the curtains before darting back inside, starlight like laughter marking her wake, an invitation for further games.
Amalia & Jyoti
born from dark water, daughters of the rain and snow
