Chimera Fields slow burn

“Oh, thank you!” the sylph tittered, trying not to show how pleased she was to be referred to as bright. Olive had come to believe that she, herself, was only of average intelligence; and that anything extra has been gifted to her from the gods. All of the bad things — the dumb decisions — resulted when she forsook divine their advice and omens and harbingers. It was nice to hear that someone could see past all that — not that Forrest knew anything of her past yet, but it was nice all the same.

Olive’s head bobbed along as the older women rattled off the names of her children, all eliciting vivid imagery to the flora they were named for. Perhaps, should she ever have a litter again, Olive might steal this naming tradition and live amongst a bustling hodge podge of Gingers and Hollys and Petals. The thought, for a moment, brought a sweet smile to Olive’s maw — but the expression was lost when Forrest asked after her own family.

“Well,” Olive began with a stammer, gaze dropping as she considered her answer. “Yes,” she replied. “Three. Sirius…” her beloved first born, whom she hadn’t seen since the boy was only a month old. He was a stranger to her. “Aries,” still a stranger, but not so much. She could only imagine what he looked like now, a grown man — if he was alive to be a grown man at all. “and little Cassiopeia.” She finished, thoughts flitting to the dark face of her only daughter. There was something special about her; something that Olive also had identified within herself. The only two girls of the small, broken Svartell family were one in the same. And those were all her children, named for the stars. With a tired sigh, Olive admitted softly “I miss them.” and looks up at Forrest, silently begging her to say the right things and make the memories float painlessly away. She was not able to compartmentalize these things as Forrest was able to, it seemed.