3/13/2025, 10:29 PM
![[Image: Viv_Aisling.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/Viv_Aisling.gif)
SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )
As the seasons slowly changed, so, too did Aisling's cast of familiar faces and her perception of the world.
The winter had made for a time of rifts. Like the disappearing snow banks, everything she had accepted as common and expected changed. Even before Gamma had come to see them, she had known the name yet not her face. Then, for just the briefest of moments, her family expanded, only to contract again when her older "sister" had died - which, according to her mathair, took her to a place they should not wish to follow her to. While her body rested within the earth, what figments had made her who she was were elsewhere.
It meant she wouldn't be around to get to know herself or her sisters, nor would she get to play - at least not with them. Aisling was still wrapping her head around the binary states of life and death, her tongue frozen even as her mind often ticked away with trying to understand what it meant to be somewhere that was not here.
Did the prey they ate go "there", too? Or only those who looked like them - all claws, shaggy fur, and rows of razor teeth?
Not unlike her mother, whose blush-furred form was several yards ahead of her, Aisling tended to get lost in the machinations of her own mind, where she spun starlit ideas of the world around her. She had joined Fable under the guise of following her on her morning patrol of the borders, but in actuality, she was more interested in seeking out the tiny pinpoints of spring that were making themselves known with greater emphasis in recent days.
It was bizarre but thrilling to find sprigs of green amid the sea of pink grasses, especially when she discovered dainty yellow blooms that dished their cheerful and bell-shaped faces to the sun high above. They were a delight and Aisling snooped through the grass in search of them, collecting the stems gently between her teeth as the span between herself and her mother grew ever-wider. Aisling suspected, if she behaved and sat still, she might be able to convince her mathair to help her put them in her fur.
She could catch up to her, Aisling was certain, so she did not fret when Fable's form dipped out of view. When her ears picked up the sound of grass beneath paws, however, she grew still and searched for the source. The tenderheart suspected it was her athair, but it was not a body of black and browns that crossed into her vision - it was instead a pale fellow with hints of earthen tones cast about his frame.
Her ears pressed forward, curious. His was not a face she knew - not at all. She had little concept of stranger danger, the young girl had always felt safe within her family's lands and her mother was ever so close. Silver-lilac eyes flicked in the direction Fable had gone before fastening on the newcomer once more, her paws moving toward him without further thought.
The winter had made for a time of rifts. Like the disappearing snow banks, everything she had accepted as common and expected changed. Even before Gamma had come to see them, she had known the name yet not her face. Then, for just the briefest of moments, her family expanded, only to contract again when her older "sister" had died - which, according to her mathair, took her to a place they should not wish to follow her to. While her body rested within the earth, what figments had made her who she was were elsewhere.
It meant she wouldn't be around to get to know herself or her sisters, nor would she get to play - at least not with them. Aisling was still wrapping her head around the binary states of life and death, her tongue frozen even as her mind often ticked away with trying to understand what it meant to be somewhere that was not here.
Did the prey they ate go "there", too? Or only those who looked like them - all claws, shaggy fur, and rows of razor teeth?
Not unlike her mother, whose blush-furred form was several yards ahead of her, Aisling tended to get lost in the machinations of her own mind, where she spun starlit ideas of the world around her. She had joined Fable under the guise of following her on her morning patrol of the borders, but in actuality, she was more interested in seeking out the tiny pinpoints of spring that were making themselves known with greater emphasis in recent days.
It was bizarre but thrilling to find sprigs of green amid the sea of pink grasses, especially when she discovered dainty yellow blooms that dished their cheerful and bell-shaped faces to the sun high above. They were a delight and Aisling snooped through the grass in search of them, collecting the stems gently between her teeth as the span between herself and her mother grew ever-wider. Aisling suspected, if she behaved and sat still, she might be able to convince her mathair to help her put them in her fur.
She could catch up to her, Aisling was certain, so she did not fret when Fable's form dipped out of view. When her ears picked up the sound of grass beneath paws, however, she grew still and searched for the source. The tenderheart suspected it was her athair, but it was not a body of black and browns that crossed into her vision - it was instead a pale fellow with hints of earthen tones cast about his frame.
Her ears pressed forward, curious. His was not a face she knew - not at all. She had little concept of stranger danger, the young girl had always felt safe within her family's lands and her mother was ever so close. Silver-lilac eyes flicked in the direction Fable had gone before fastening on the newcomer once more, her paws moving toward him without further thought.
Are ye lookin' for flowers, too?she asked through her hold on the flower stems as she bounded toward the loner, tail waving amicably behind her haunches.
I can share.She did, after all, have plenty.
![[Image: Viv_AislingSig.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/Viv_AislingSig.gif)
