Dragoncrest Cliffs they feel a way, oh wow.

utterly fascinated by the fluttering thing, sobeille stilled. it was good then she lacked coordination, for she was at a stage of her infancy where she would not register the horror of shoving something so beautiful and sentient in her mouth. 

her instinct stayed her then, suggesting only a whispering watchfulness. a giggle broke from her little mouth again as she watched the creature bound away, alighting on a thin twig above her reach. the butterfly’s wings fanned in slow open-close moments, and for the briefest second a slant of sunlight pierced her wings and sets the whole den aglow in soft amber.