Whitebark Stream I put off saying I love you, oh, oh

s a m e. at this point, i barely even look anymore—i just assume it’s going to snow forever

Each step taken drove her mind further from the stream and closer to the stars; being so far from family made her wish for some sign from the sky dragons even more so than before, assurance that her decisions were correct—that thinking now more of herself and less of her family did not make her as selfish as she initially felt. But Kaori was not her mother and could not establish a mental link with Draco or any others, for that matter; long before her birth, it was decided by forces greater than any could imagine that she would not be a vessel. Yet, despite this, she often wondered if a dragon up above watched over her anyway—a thought driven further to belief as she was dragged back into the present, the here and now, by a chuff.

Along the stream again did she meet the marred bird, his appearance seemingly sudden—a gift from the stars, she wished to believe.

“Salvatore,” she called, name spoken in the softest of tones, but a step no closer did she take. Kaori remained some distance away, near enough to speak comfortably but far enough away yet that she could not reach out to him. Distance alone did not contain her wandering mind, however; her posture remained open—inviting, even—as her gaze settled upon him. Should he heed the lure of the dragoness, her tail would swish carefully back and forth, tempting him to come nearer.