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[8:15 AM, Rhodes Island Dormitories]
Her eyes flutter open as the blaring noise echoes within her eardrums. Sighing, the young girl gropes for a couple of seconds before gripping the alarm clock by her bedside. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she groggily throws on a change of clothing. After adjusting her monocle for the final touch, she spares a glance at the clock one last time before walking out of the room at a steady pace.
Already 8:29? I better not waste another second.She draws up to a door further down the corridor, hands twisting the knob. Lada gets nervous when we don’t stick to routine. A quivering bundle greets the girl as she enters, huddled close to a nightlight and wrapped up tightly with blankets.
“You can stop it with the fake snores Lada, I’m here now.” She says, fiddling with her eyepiece as the mound of blankets still. “I didn’t think I would linger that much, must be the nerves.”
The hill of fabric explodes with a resounding “I’m up!” from their emerging occupant, and a cheerful grin to match the candid tone of her voice. Both girls clasp each other’s hand in a firm handshake, with a tremor in each grip breaking the usual exchange. One from clear excitement, while another due to poorly concealed nerves.
“Good morning Istina! We better get a move on if we don’t want to be late!” says the younger Ursusian as she begins to get changed. “With the General out for today on the Doctor’s latest expedition, we’ve got plenty of daylight to burn!”
All dressed and raring to go, the girl’s strong arms are already dragging Istina out the door before she has time to blush at the mention of Zima. Or dwell on what she had been planning in her absence.
[9:08 AM, Rhodes Island Cafeteria - Kitchen]
Pushing open the doors, both girls were greeted by the beehive of activity that was the kitchen staff preparing for the day. Glancing around the milling occupants, Istina felt awkwardly rooted to the spot as the younger girl began greeting a nearby Itra.
“Hey Courier, sorry we’re late!” she cheered, not missing a step as her hands grabbed the other end of the rice bag he had been struggling to lift. “We can get started in here, but where should Istina help out until we’ve finished preparing the menu for today’s lunch and the breakfast rush has settled?”
“I’ll take her over to Gitano,” another voice pipes up from behind Istina, startling her as a hand clamps down on the bookish girl’s shoulder. “The line has getting pretty long, so another open register should ease her burden.”
Any words die in Istina’s throat as she’s spun around, already being marched back out the kitchen doors as a muffled “Thanks Dur-nar!” echoes behind them. Even before the two women reach the cash register area of the large mess hall, the bustling line of assorted staff can be seen holding their trays, eager to get a start on the day. Drawing up to the head of the line, a white haired woman with an elusive smile came into view, lackadaisically punching in the total for a client’s meal.
“Gitano! I’m assigning Gummy’s friend to lend a hand over here.” The Vulpo beside Istina shouted, causing the infected woman’s gaze to turn their way. For her part, Istina kept her eyes shifting between the soothsayer and the continued press of buttons. “One of the operators on kitchen duty will come by once the wave of people has settled, but until then she’s your responsibility.”
Feeling a solid slap on the back, Dur-nar is already gone by the time the Ursusian caster had regained her footing. Still aware of the diviner’s look, Istina quickly shuffled into the next cashier booth. As the girl tried to emulate what she’d observed beforehand, Gitano spoke up.
“Here,” The words came out smooth, flowing like melted snow from a rooftop. A standard issue Rhodes Island employee card was being held out. “You’ll need an ID card to activate these. Yours may not have clearance, so swipe mine across the pad.”
Istina readily complied, bobbing her head before carrying out the action. It’s a quick setup, and within a few minutes she’s already fallen into step as operators flow through.
She rings up a bickering pair first, a redheaded Vulpo and some short Vouivre. Istina knows they’ve worked with her at some point, but honestly can’t remember any specifics.
Her thoughts drift off to her own partners in crime as the next person in line sidles up in front of Istina’s booth. Of course we’d end up leaving the final touches to today. Between my station getting an influx of work the Doctor decided to be overly generous on handing out days off to operators regularly in combat, this was the best our group could coordinate!
She lets her irritation fade for the time being as the humdrum tide of monotony washes over. Punch in one order of fried pork here. Give the go-ahead for someone to swipe their credit card for a plate of scrambled eggs and baked beans. No use getting so worked up over the fine line they were prancing on when the sun hadn’t been up for long. Everyone promised to keep her updated with text messages anyway. Things will be fine.
The steady lineup of breakfastgoers continues, at times an end appears visible, but quickly vanishes with the arrival of new groups. Not much conversation is made with her fellow register worker. Istina was never one particularly disposed to small talk, but even then, something about the other woman discomforted her. The cool nature of her actions was one thing, but the measured tone and scrutinizing looks she caught glimpses of didn’t help either.
It was in a particular moment of inattentiveness, caught between gazing at long locks of hair and dimly registering the receding back of the last operator she’d served, when a voice she’d grown used to blindsided her back into the present.
“What are you doing here, junior detective Istina?!”
Istina cringed at the sound, hackles already starting to rise. May. Of all the people to discover her current position, it had to be May. Heaving a sigh, one weighed down with exasperation and light embarrassment, the girl turned her head towards the “royal detective” gaping at her across the counter.
“As you can clearly see, May, I’m working.” She spat between grit teeth, a migraine already starting to form. She had no real issue with the other girl, but it was too early for Istina to endure her needling. “Kindly present me with your order instead of standing rooted like a street sign, you’re holding up the line.”
“Working?” The Liberi chirped, voice too loud for their close proximity. “I remember you had today scheduled as a vacation from your usual post at the reception desk. Are you looking to switch profession on me, junior detective?”
“Yes May, I’ve just fallen head over heels with the prospect of working customer service.” Istina ground out with heavy sarcasm, pinching the bridge of her nose while hitting the relevant keys for May’s meal. “Not even my occasional work training operators in supportive actions can compete with the joysthis position allows me to experience.”
“Well you don’t need to get so confrontational with me, junior detective!” May huffed. She pouted for a minute while fishing into her wallet for the money to cover her breakfast. Istina felt a twinge of guilt, or maybe further annoyance, at the sight. The last thing she needed was to deal with a sulking aspiring detective the next time both shared a shift in the reception room.
“Fine, I’m sorry.” she relented, causing the Liberi’s mood to instantly brighten. “Gummy needed an extra pair of hands, so I’m volunteering my day off.”
The words slid cleanly off Istina’s tongue, and seemed to placate her fellow bookworm. It wasn’t a complete lie, at best an omission of specific data. The young operator still wasn’t completely comfortable with how the action barely weighed on her conscience the more months went by. At least today, she could rationalize it as being nothing of dubious nature.
“I’ll be seeing you on Friday then.” May called, her legs already carrying the girl towards the seating area. “Too bad about your day off, maybe the Doctor will give you another!”
Already tuning the other girl out, Istina waves the next customer over. White locks meet her gaze this time, as poised steps make their way towards the register.
“Natalya,” she greets, hands moving quickly as her eyes size the former nobility up. “I take it you know how to proceed with today?”
“Of course, Anna,” the smooth voice of the taller girl responds, hiding her own nervous jitters behind an air of composure. “I’ll pass by the kitchen after eating, to drop off what you asked me to pick up during my last outing.”
“Right.” Istina nods, handing the white haired girl’s change over the counter. “We’ll leave preparing the room to you and Rosalind then. If any problems crop up, I’ll be here.”
With an exchange of nods, the taller girl departs. Not sparing another glance, Istina’s eyes flitted to the seemingly endless line of Rhodes Island personnel still waiting. It was going to be a long morning.
[11:30 AM, Rhodes Island Cafeteria – Dining Area]
It had to be the fifth time by now, but nevertheless she was at it again. Cloth in one hand, eyepiece in the other, Istina worked diligently at making the glass completely free of any smudging or blemishes. People watching proved dull at this hour, and staring at the one flickering light fixture in the expansive room resulted in her vision swimming with spots. Updates from Rosa were frequent, but the utter lack of discourse from the group’s other member couldn’t easily be addressed while at work. She prided herself as not being one to unprofessionally blather on the phone while on duty, and rousing the dark haired girl from what likely had to be a drunken stupor was something requiring a physical presence anyway.
The scholarly girl blamed herself not bringing anything to read for moments like this occurring, but she would sooner wear down fabric against her corrective lens than open a dialogue with the woman nearby. Even the way she mundanely shuffled and arranged her tarot deck left Istina discomforted.
“You are young miss Istina, correct?”
Standing at attention, the scholarly girl popped her eyeglass back into place and turned to face the voice’s source. A few steps away stood a large horned man with a heavy build.
“You must be Matterhorn,” she replied in acknowledgement, recalling several stories shared over meals from the accumulated days since arriving on the mobile city. “Gummy has spoken of you at length. I take it now is a good time?”
“Indeed,” the man nods, his tone even. “We should return quickly, this window of calm doesn’t last very long.”
He cocks his head, angling in the direction of the doors Istina had already passed through only a few hours earlier. Pocketing the cloth, she swept the workspace over one last time, arranging any loose change with the drawer’s corresponding section. But before the caster had finished closing down the mundane corner she occupied for most of the morning, her neighbor spoke up.
“You’ve taken great pains to accomplish this.” Gitano noted, voice still composed after their hours spent scarcely acknowledging one another. “I’m sure she’ll be happy, just seeing even the tail end would cause a bystander to understand all your efforts.”
Those words provide some soft relief, and the tension Istina had unknowingly been piling up in the soothsayer’s company evaporated from her shoulders. Her unease would have been completely erased, if not for what was uttered as she set off for the kitchen. Caught as barely a whisper.
“Even if the girl you’re honoring ends up unable to attend, I’m sure she’ll be touched all the same.”
Istina was not a superstitious person by any means, but Gitano’s reputation was well known around the mobile city. Countless fears flared up, as her muscles tensed.
Had something happened to Sonya? Was she hurt in the field? Would the mission drag on longer for some unforeseen circumstances? Or could she be referring to…
She pinched herself, hard, to stymie the tide of anxiety before it became a tempest. Grounded in the now, not the theoretical. Pushing uncertainty to the side, a stiff farewell was tossed in the older woman’s direction as Matterhorn led the way.
Istina walked through as the Forte held the door for her, giving a quick thanks. She caught a flash of brown hair in her peripheral vision, but paid it no heed. She had work to do, and precious little time left to let her mind wander.
“Over here, Istina!” the unmistakable voice of Gummy rose over the ambient sound of the kitchen, from a workstation in a far corner of the room. The blue haired girl closed in, mentally breaking down the forthcoming tasks as she sized up the array of utensils.
“I take it everything is here?” Istina asks, parallel to wrapping the offered apron around herself before rolling up the sleeves of her uniform. A quick glance affirmed that the ovens were preheated well in advance.
“Of course!” shouted the younger girl, hefting an expensive-looking jar onto the table. “Rosa dropped this off a few hours ago. The baking sheets have been lined, and the tools have been chilled, and a stove has been set aside for our exclusive use.”
Nodding along as the blonde cook listed off ingredients, the older girl had already measured out a portion of the jar’s contents into a saucepan. Setting it on the stovetop with practiced precision, the flame was lit to a comfortable medium heat.
A buzz sounded off from her shirt pocket, interrupting the blue haired girl’s concentration. She glanced down at her phone, huffing in annoyance at Leto’s rambling string of excuses for forgetting to carry out her task for today. A quick check-in with Rosa confirms the other foodstuff has already been handled ahead of schedule, and before long the ex-noble has been redirected towards the excitable brunette’s direction to provide support. Slipping her device away, Istina’s monocle shielded eye returns to the pan she’d kept maintaining on the stove.
“You know, I never pegged you as one for much practice with the kitchen.” Gummy peered over her friend’s shoulder, watching as the thick liquid turned a darker shade. It wasn’t until a distinctly caramel-like aroma began to waft up before Istina answered, her hand busy filling a bowl with cold water.
“My mother taught me this recipe,” she murmured, voice distant. The ghost of a smile wormed its way through her usual impassive demeanor, wistful for a past she rarely spoke of. “She would always go on about it when the circumstances pertained. Her strict perfectionism on the subject practically ingrained each step into the back of my mind.”
“Anna, don’t pour so quickly. The steam will get into your eyes.”
“That should be long enough. Lada, please whisk this with the cold water.”
“Don’t dally now, Anna. The butter will burn before you’ve combined the dry ingredients.”
A carefully tended butter mixture meets eggs, and is whisked over low heat before uniting with mixture primarily containing baking soda.
“Careful now, too much flour will ruin the batter.”
Fully combined, a portion is spread onto one baking sheet, before carefully shaped into a circle. The cycle is repeated seven more times, before all 8 trays are popped into the waiting oven.
“That’s wonderful, dear! You’ve really gotten better at distributing the batter evenly.”
Lightly browned and cooled on separate sheets of rounded parchment paper, uniformity is ensured by trimming off the edges. Those are put aside, while the last of the batter is spread onto the final baking sheet before entering the oven like its predecessors.
“You know, your father fell in love with me over this cake. The way to the heart really is easiest through the stomach.”
Removed, chopped into pieces alongside the other cake scraps, and then quickly return to the heated confines for another 10 minutes.
“Do you have your eyes set on someone, Anna? Has any daring rogue captured my daughter’s heart?”
The flow of beating scraps into crumbs, while another works various liquids into icing, is interrupted by a curious Perro smelling an easy meal. It takes some words, warnings, and an edible bribe, but the wandering intruder is eventually on her way.
“You may have surpassed even me at this point. I wasn’t close to this good when I prepared this cake at your age. Just remember to keep the recipe close, and feel free to repeat it any time. You’ve practiced plenty over the years, but it always pays to sharpen your skills. Anyone can appreciate your looks and brain, but an extra edge in your back pocket always helps to seal the deal.”
It stands completed before both girls, in all eight layers of glory. Frosting binds each round of cake together, and encompasses the entire product as a sweet shell with a burned honey flavor. Gummy stands close, covering it all with the crumbs in a heavy dusting. For her part, Istina marvels at the finished delicacy. The words of a woman long gone may have been old fashioned, but they still provided her with a warmth she hadn’t known was so sorely missed.
“We need to chill it for at least 8 hours now.” She says, once Gummy has finished dusting her hands. Trepidation follows. “Unfortunately, Zima is due to get back here by 7pm, so we’ll have to settle for less. I just hope it’ll be enough.”
“Hmmmm,” pondered the shorter of the two, drumming her fingers on the stainless steel counter. “I remember there was someone I was deployed with once that had an ability related to time. Should we ask her for help?”
Istina shuddered. She knew who was being mentioned. Dark blue hair and black horns on a Sankta were hard to forget, not to mention the raw power the woman held sway over.
“Not a bad idea, but I think it would be better if we didn’t ask others to use their abilities over something so frivolous.” she chuckled, patting the top of Gummy’s head. I’d also rather not risk our cake getting turned inside out by whatever forces she’s messing with.Forgetting about the hulking creature she’d caught a glimpse of in the training room wasn’t a memory Istina would be parting with anytime soon.
[7:15 PM, Rhodes Island Dormitories – Zima’s Room]
The corridor echoed with plodding steps, as a particularly sour brunette turned the corner in front of her quarters. The outing had nearly dragged into overtime, and the girl ached all over for it.
“Leave it to one of those Penguin Logistics weirdoes to draw extra action into a minor delivery of medical supplies.” Zima scowled, rubbing a singed shoulder. That stupidly excitable redhead’s aim had been erratic in the heat of the scuffle. “How did they even get so many infected wolves on our tail? It was just a trip to some Columbian village!”
She wrenched open the door, feeling the hinges strain for a moment due to the outburst. Zima was tired and her body ached in protest of every motion. From exhaustion or hunger, she wasn’t sure, but the cafeteria had long since been passed, so exhaustion it would have to damn well be. In the middle of shrugging off her coat, the lights suddenly flickered on as a chorus of shouting voices filled the enclosed space.
““““SURPRISE!””””
She blinked slowly, uncurling her fists as she took in more of the scene around her. Gummy was standing next to a table in the room’s center, adorned with a tablecloth and carrying various edible treats over its length. Behind the blonde girl stood Natalya, fixing her with a grin as she held the younger girl back from barreling directly into their tired leader. On a chair was Leto, greeting her from the bottom of a can as her friend kept the inebriated girl upright. Beehunter, if she remembered correctly. Judging by the bulging garbage bag at their feet, this had started long before she’d gotten back. Finally she noticed Istina, standing before her as she adjusted several candles onto the table’s centerpiece, a cake that had clearly been maintained with effort until she arrived.
All their heads were adorned with cheap looking paper hats, and above them hung a hand drawn banner. The handwriting was impeccable, but the little illustrations dotted around the penmanship showed it had been a group effort.
“I would ask what the occasion is, but the decorations have given me an idea.” the general begrudgingly smiled, already feeling her frustrations from barely a minute ago flow out of her. She felt more than saw Istina take her hand, guiding her towards a chair Rosa held out for her. The plush cushion, comforting food, and warm atmosphere that boxed her in was too much for the usually obtuse leader. One final tender look from quiet the bookworm was the last push, and the Winter General melted into the bustling current of the festivities.
[8:07 PM, Rhodes Island Dormitories – Zima’s Room]
“-and then the we just stood there, barely realizing what the hell had even happened, as the entire truck careened right into leader of that gang. I’d never seen a Sarkaz of that size go flying!”
They were all gathered around Zima, focus raptly captured as she regaled them with her mission. She took a large bite out of the drumstick in her hand, licking the rich sauce off her lips. They really hadn’t held back.
“What happened next?” asked the youngest, eyes brimming with excitement. Or maybe just too much sugar, Gummy hadn’t held back much once the group dug in. “This sounds like barely a challenge for our great leader!”
Chuckling as put down her cup, Zima brought her hand before her face.
“Well that was when the redhead from Penguin Logistics began firing her weapon off in wild celebration.” Forming a gun facsimile with her fingers, the brown haired Ursus girl waved it around wildly while making an imitation of machine gun sounds. “Unfortunately, her bullet spray broke the lock on the back of that truck.”
Her hand stops, and she ekes out a creaking sound from her lips.
“Turns out a crime ring illegally exporting trained fucking attack animals would keep their vehicles stocked full of them, ready for shipment.” She laughs, remembering the growls that had precedent the furred onslaught. “I doubt the Doctor has ever run as fast as they had before this afternoon, that’s for sure.”
“And then? And then?” Gummy was practically on top of the older girl’s knee, enthusiasm barely held back by both Istina and Rosa’s attempts to keep her seated.
“Of course at that point, some stuffy asshole claiming to be from the ‘Armorless Union’ showed up right when we’d put some miles between our group and the wolves.” The general learned back, sweeping her arms wide. “Apparently, the Kazimierz knight association…”
[10:34 PM, Rhodes Island Dormitories – Zima’s Room]
“Na zodrovie! Drink up little bear!”
“Looking away, leader? Can you really afford that luxury right now?”
Zima grit her teeth, focusing all the strength she could into her right arm. From the corner of her eye she could see Leto overenthusiastically trying to slip a sip of mead down the blonde girl’s throat. A sharp jostle called her attention back, as she refocused her gaze squarely on the girl before her. Beehunter wasn’t an active underground fighter in name only, and she had the muscle mass to prove it.
“Why not just throw in the towel?” She snickered, blowing her bangs away from her face. “If we don’t end this fast, Emperor Leto over there might find a new drinking buddy.”
Sure, Zima could just throw the match and stop her friend.
It was the responsible thing to do. It would only cost me my dignity as the most physically capable of the group.One little match wasn’t anything compared wrangling Leto’s drunken behavior in.
She spots a flash of blue in her periphery. Who the fuck said I couldn’t end this quickly on her own terms?
Loosening her grip for barely an instant, Zima reapplies the pressure in full force before slamming Beehunter’s arm against the table. She shoots up with a roar of triumph, flexing her arms before turning to the various cheers. She takes note of how loudly Leto is hooting, unimpeded by the sizeable lump on her head. Nor does she miss Istina place a jug on a high shelf, before joining up with Rosa in cheering her name while Gummy remains sandwiched between them both.
She turns back to Beehunter, the other girl smirking as she massages the back of her hand.
“Cyka blyat! You really don’t hold back at all, do you?”
Well, this prancing boxer hasn’t been reduced to some whining cub after that, so she was already a cut above some of the other pansies I’ve faced off with back home. Oh, now I’m really damn pumped.
“How about we try the other arm?”
[11:45 PM, Rhodes Island Dormitories – Zima’s Room]
*ding* *ding* *ding*
A metal spoon strikes glass three times. The room goes silent, all partygoers putting down what they’re doing to focus on the noise’s source. A brown haired girl puts down a slice of cake, wiping away frosting with her scarf. A groggy child is carefully lowered off the shoulders of a trained boxer, lightly held upright by a tall figure whose white hair flows down. A detective novel is lowered, and the owner turns to the girl sitting beside her.
Zima clears her throat.
“This party, and every effort you’ve all put your hearts into to make it happen, has been wonderful.” She beams at them all, chest light as she gazes at each face, especially the one closest to her own.
“Things have been a rollercoaster since our group formed, but where we are now, we can finally say that things have begun to settle.”
The party hats tossed on the floor, the banner fallen to the wayside. Moments like these seemed to be a pipe dream when they’d first come together. A reality they would never experience again.
“We can’t erase the past, and the circumstances that bind us will never go away.” A sobering light shimmers in her eyes, but she pushes on. “Yet what we’ve accomplished since then, and with how much we’ve all grown, we’re more than just the events of that time.”
She raises her glass, and the others follow suit. With her remaining hand, the leader works her down, and intertwines it with the girl sitting beside her.
“To the many allies we’ve lost, and all of the ones we’ll make in the future. And especially, to our own personal development. I salute each them!”
The room erupts into echoing cheers, each one rising in tempo. Before long they’ve begun singing in chorus to an old lullaby, Gummy barely able to remain on her feet as she nestles into Rosa’s warmth. All the while, Istina’s hand never leaves her leader’s comforting grip.
[12:23 PM, Rhodes Island Dormitories – Istina’s Room]
The rancor of the celebration had calmed by this point, with each going back to their own separate rooms or staying behind to clean up. Tomorrow was guaranteed to bring another wave of assignments each would need to carry out, and the girls knew better than to get overly wasted at an impromptu party. None of these thoughts particularly mattered in the moment, however, as both a tight embrace and chaste kiss were shared before a doorway slightly ajar.
“Thank you again, for throwing together a party like this.” Zima whispered, almost inaudibly into the other girl’s ear. “We could all really use more of these, more reasons to let loose and relax.”
They stood apart, then. Gazing longingly into each other’s eyes, flickers of warmth dancing between them both.
“Maybe today can become another tradition then? The anniversary of our cool General Zima’s 227thofficial outing as a registered operator of Rhodes Island.” The caster smiled wryly as she adjusted her shirt. “This time we even included Natalya, and you could see how happy Lada was with that. We’ve all come far, what harm is there in creating little celebrations to bond over?”
A playfully gruff snort rips out of the sturdier girl, hand reaching up to rustle blue hair. “I’m still surprised by the spontaneity of it all, especially coming from as dedicated a planner as you.” Stepping back, the door is pulled open with a mock bow accompanied by smattered giggles. “But I won’t keep you up much longer, fair Lady Morozova. Just don’t gorge on that last piece of cake, after that feast we wouldn’t want you out with a stomach ache tomorrow.”
The words come out in jest, as the brown haired teen kissed Istina’s hand while shooting a look at the package dangling from the other, but immediately serve to sober the other girl once they register. That’s right, she still had one more person to greet. Retracting her arm with a soft smile, the young scholar backs into the dormitory room, shutting the door with a wave. The mood turns delicate after it clicks shut, the boisterous cadence of Zima’s voice fading as her footsteps pad towards the other end of the hallway. Softly, Istina turns, facing the room’s other occupant with what she hopes is an apologetic look.
She’s sitting at the edge of her bed, patiently waiting for what had likely been at least an hour more than Istina had promised. Before any word can be exchange, the studious girl has already taken her by the arm and guided her to the room’s desk. Next, the final slice of cake, the cake she had poured all her heart into making, is placed between them both.
“Sorry I kept you all alone for so long, things went into full swing after Rosalind had too much to drink. Shura promised she’d help her to bed, but those two might be causing more mayhem somewhere else on the ship as we speak.” She shakes her head, but stops when the other girl still doesn’t respond.
“Hey, you know I didn’t forget. Especially about what today is.” She needles the other girl, poking her in the shoulder. “I promised you countless times already, I’ll never forget for as long as I live. I’ve even made sure the others would consider today a special time as well, so it’ll be more than just the two of us.”
“You should try some of this cake. I made sure to include everything you like, even that same brand of expensive wildflower honey from Kjerag you loved back in Chernobog.” Tightening her hold, she pulls the girl closer.
“I owe Natalya big time for that, I probably wouldn’t have gotten my hands on any if she didn’t get along so well with everyone in HR.” Istina chuckles lightly, but the one sharing her space remains silent.
The unspeaking girl begins to shift, bending slightly before the blue haired Ursusian’s eyes. Maybe she grabbed her a bit too tightly. But Istina wouldn’t let go. Istina would never let go again. She draws the soft body flush against her chest, enveloping the other person with both arms as she whispers into her ear.
“Happy birthday, Vika."