FLAME / leaving & gifts

[aine.]

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I'll come back when you call me

Was that Trygve calling?  The petite druid felt her ears perk, pushing her head out the window of the family treehouse.  Hazel hues flickered, bright with curiosity.  'Got something?'  Like a present?  At least, that's what her father often meant when he used those words. 

Slowly, Aine trotted out to the steps, tensing for a split second.  Her right hindleg now bore a careful splint from under her father's care, holding it straight as the bone healed.  It made traveling up and down the stairs a new challenge, though her wobbly legs had hardly helped from the beginning.  Stubborn, she began the climb down, soon bounding over to her best friend.  Albeit, with a semi-lopsided gait.

The massive shadowy creature speaking to Ry was more than enough to ruffle her feathers.  But he voiced her initial thought at least.  Gifts? Whatever for?  Of course, it was not as though Aine didn't like to give out gifts on random occasions.  As such, she simply smiled as she turned her gaze onto her best friend.

She noticed the paint supplies first.  "Da will love these!" Especially the charcoal, she thinks.  It was a medium she didn't see her father experiment with often, but always enjoyed the results when he did.  Maybe he would make something for Ry in turn with the charcoal.  She hoped so.  Gifts came without the expectation of something in return, but it was still nice to receive something even when you didn't ask for anything.

Her eyes fluttered over.  An intricate wooden carving of a rose.  And it had her name!  Joli.  "Je l'adore! You made this?  It's so pretty."

— aine | the pitt | commodore of the crows | fae druid —