titanium and wildfire
The woman looks at Charlie and she feels like they are both being seen, for the first time in a long time. The girl has no trouble standing out, has no trouble getting noticed. She is loud, and curious, and comfortable with strangers. She has made many acquaintances in her years of being alone. But not many friends.
“I know,” she agrees, vermilion eyes taking in the equines around them who toss their papers into the flames. “They hope for their problems to be miraculously fixed, by the gods, probably. By someone. But not by themselves.”
Charlie has heard what the gods can do, what they have done. If anyone is expecting Tempus, or Vespera, or whoever else to make their problems go away, they are going to be disappointed. Why should she hope for something to change between her mother and herself, when it was her mother who took off for months at a time? Then, when she came home she buried herself in bars. Everything and anything else was always more important than her daughter.
She grits her teeth, and can feel Indy nestling closer to her neck as the osprey shares in her discomfort. The girl releases a breath, at last. “You’re right. You are never too young.” Charlie wants to say I wasn’t even a year old, when I was abandoned. Forgotten.
She wants to say that she wasn’t even a year old when her world fell apart and she was left to pick it up piece by piece, all by herself. Nobody has ever been there for her, and a fire isn’t going to fix that now.
![[Image: 13222742_95oVYzdeR5MVhK5.png]](https://file.toyhou.se/images/13222742_95oVYzdeR5MVhK5.png)
you and i, we're pioneers
we make our own rules
