[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

To Euphemia, Dalmatia was the most paradoxical of her sisters. She had a most peculiar pelage, matched with a most demure personality. It was an interesting thing, truly, and so uniquely Dalmatia. Euphemia took much comfort in the spotted sister’s presence, for it was within Dalmatia that Euphemia saw a little bit of her own quietness, her own instability, her own desire for more.

Of course, Euphemia had noticed that Dalmatia seemed to be more upbeat as of late, but Phia could not fathom why that might be. Whatever it was, she was happy for it.

Their pealing laughter mirrored one another as Dalmatia submitted to Euphemia’s chosen nickname; although sometimes it was nostalgic to hear the name mother and father called her, most of the time it just picked at a barely-scabbed-over-wound that sat somewhere deep down inside her. Yeah, the silvered maiden affirmed joyfully, leaping forward to bat at her sister’s face with a delicate paw, more of a tap than anything serious.

Euphemia smiled, prancing on ahead of her. Sure thing, sis. Orange eyes squinting, she looked back over her shoulder, as if Dalmatia was already lagging behind. Anywhere you want to go? What’s on your mind?

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