To be honest, I did not entirely understand the relationship between auntie Morr and Auntie Moira. Most likely this is because they are both creatures of flame; and of all the elements, I was least like fire and most like ice. It was not at all straightforward-- did they like each other or not? Could it truly be both? I laughed at Maeve’s admission. “Sometimes I like to think they love each other,” I admit, “they’re just too proud to admit it.”
(I flushed to think of Leonidas, and Caspian, and even Maret. I knew firsthand how pride made one bristle at the mere thought of affection.)
Each of us crafted our snow creatures, and each of us failed remarkably in giving them wings. “I wonder what would happen if we asked Avesta to animate them like this. Would they turn into abominabbable snow monsters?”
I laughed- hard, which I don’t often do; I even snorted, a quirk of mine I’m certainly not fond of. Not because of Maeve’s vocabulary, but because there was just something so funny about the thought of these ridiculous piles of snow being animated. It went against every aspect of Avesta’s magic: the delicateness, the nuance, the sense of masterpiece when something stagnant is brought to life… it just seemed so wrong to think of that beauty applied to our hideous little snow gremlins.
“Oh certainly. It would be terrifying!” I said between bouts of laughter. ”Imagine if that was your bonded!” The thought of Furfur replaced with a lumpy, ambling piece of snow was too absurd. I reached out to carve a little face in my lump- a silly little expression, two eyes and a swoopy, overly large smile that somehow implied a sort of daftness. “I would name mine Caesar.” I erased the smile and carved a pout in its place, then I looked to Maeve’s monstrosity. It was slightly more dignified than mine, but not by much. “What’s yours named?”
@Maeve <3
