It took a long time for Blossom to wake; Reverie might have been more alarmed by it had they not been through this once already. She waited patiently by her daughter's side, setting up a bed in the sand with broad leaves and nudging her gently into it. Eventually, Blossom started to stir.
Hey,
Reverie smoothed her ears with a gentle kiss.
How are you feeling, sunshine?
She studied her worriedly, already dreading what was to come. Not immediately, she knew; they were, both of them, accustomed to a certain level of absence when it came to Lestan. It would take time for Blossom to realize that this was different. And then what would she say? How could she ever explain it? Bitterly, Reverie could not help but note the irony of wanting so desperately to protect Blossom from the hurt of Lestan's absence.
She couldn't even protect herself from it.
Blossom had been rather tired when she’d laid down to rest, and once she was asleep, the girl simply became a ragdoll. Nothing short the heat death of the universe could restore her.
So, she woke on a neat bed of leaves, and just carried on waking, making an effort of stretching out her limbs and rolling onto her back. Eventually, she would blink open her eyes and roll to look at her mother instead, smiling.
Hi momma.
She pressed into the kiss happily.
’m good. Not sleepy anymore.
She stretched one more time for good measure.
Reverie couldn't help her own smile, helplessly caught in a surge of warmth as Blossom greeted her. Well, that's good, because we're going on a trip,
She told her softly, pulling her close for a loose embrace. We're going to the mountains - a... a place with a lot of rocks, I guess. Well, it's cooler than it sounds. But you have to see it for yourself.
What do you think?
She studied her daughter to see what sort of reaction she might have. Reverie still wasn't sure how her lifestyle would go over with her daughter, or if she could maintain it if Blossom grew to hate traveling. Only time would tell.
Her mother said something about a big pile of rocks, and Blossom blinked a few times. Then, she giggled.
I like rocks!
She chimed happily, her tail immediately beginning to wag. She waved her paws up at her mother, a happy little gesture.
I think rocks are cool, mama!
Duh!
Were all children so perfect? Reverie thought surely that Blossom was different, that she was special in the same way her namesake had been special. She was so very like Rose; a perpetual light in the darkness, always with a smile and a kind word at the ready. As if Reverie had truly been given a gift, the gift of a second chance at protecting that rare and precious light.
She didn't intend to waste it.
We'll find lots of rocks for you, then,
She promised, reaching out to tap one of Blossom's waving paws with her nose. All different kinds. Maybe we'll find crystals. Those are kind of like colorful, shiny rocks.
Reverie found it difficult to explain a world she herself hardly understood. She thought, not for the first time, that she would have to work to correct this as Blossom grew. Her daughter looked to her for every answer, and she couldn't bear the thought of having none to give.