Cerulean Cape where the moon is made of gold

Politeness was relative, and although Screech held her gaze long enough for her cheeks to heat and her lashes to bat demurely, Seelie didn’t take offense. She was delighted when he began to eat but refrained from leaping to all fours and doing a celebratory dance — barely.

While Screech sampled the succulent meat, Coelacanth remained still; she was afraid that sudden movement might scare him off, and she enjoyed the sound of him eating as much as she liked the sight of it. She hadn’t noticed what he perceived to be awkwardness. In her eyes, he was dashing and handsome! He was badly wounded, but her only qualm about that was that she wanted to fuss over him and was pretty sure he wouldn’t let her. Very suddenly, she was reminded of Cascada — Seelie wasn’t sure what had become of the gentle, green-eyed girl, but she liked to believe that Cascada had taken Calypso, Anatha, and King and made a happy life with them.

He looked at her again! Coelacanth dipped her muzzle shyly, trying to fold her tufted ears over her eyes with both paws as though to say, “I wasn’t staring! I promise!” [She was.] Lifting one paw to regard the bright-eyed fledgling with a playful air, she greeted his murmured “thank you” with typical enthusiasm. Perhaps because she couldn’t do it herself, she loved to be talked to — and she spun one quick circle before doing a happy dog tap-dance. Feathered ears cupped toward him like flowers reaching for the sun as she tried to find her words — but as she so often did these days, she came up short. Instead, she tilted her head first to one side, inquisitive and appeasing.