Only after Flora had secured a large amount of fabric in the most vibrant red imaginable (it far outshone the reddest rose or even the lips that shamed the red, red rose), using her wand to craft a warm cloak for the small pup, did she even start considering the idea. She was stalling, they all knew it, but once the cloak was done in the middle of the last month of the year--there was little else to be done but relent.
The small paws of the eldest squirrel pushed and prodded the young girl to stand up straight. Small wings worked to keep her alift as she wrapped the cloak around the pup, small paws fastened it before checking that the hood was decent. Once she was satisfied that it fit the stature of the pup and would keep her warm, she floated to the ground and pressed her cheek against one paw. She sighed as everyone waited and then nodded. She waited only a moment before launching into a spiel about what not to do (everything).
"Be careful, speak to no one," she stated then stopped. Oh, dear, she thought as she shook her head slightly an apologetic smile playing on her maw, "Yes, we decided that rule wasn't in your best interested, didn't we?" The pup nodded before her, "Then stick close to Aurora, dear, and please try not to climb trees."
"But--" Rosebud attempted to reply however Flora plowed on. That was the worst thing (at the moment) about the eldest fairy, she tended to go on and on giving no one a chance to speak. Fauna usually agreed with her, Merryweather would end up grouchy and shouting, and Aurora seemed immune to it all. She hoped one day she would be, too.
"Flora, if you're that concerned why don't you accompany us?" the angelic interrupted, knowing the answer would be no. She smiled sweetly even as her aunt scowled at the idea. Once the squirrel began to shoo them, she gave a hidden wink to the excited pup.
Outside was much different to inside the den. A coldness the likes of the pup had never known whipped through the air and she was thankful for the cloak then. She pawed at the white fluff, eyes lighting up at the prints left behind, and grinning as she darted out into winter wonderland. There was a chill against the paw of her paws and in some parts her paws would sink. She thought it was wonderful even when she found a slick patch that caused her to slide forward, squeaking in surprise, until she was deposited into a particularly high drift.
"I don't think we should try skating with you," Aurora had teased as she fished her out. Once the pup was brushed off, she lead her further from home not noticing the pup's gaze.
Winter had brought a quietness to the elder otter, moments where she would seem to forget what she was doing, and times when she seemed to have slipped off without a word. She remarked only that she was thinking of friends and hoping they were faring well in the winter. The pup thought the princess was concerned about her friend's clams. (She wasn't entirely wrong but she wasn't right, either.)
"Aurora? Can we sing out here in winter?" It seemed there was a quietness and she was afraid singing might wake something up. She wasn't very fond of the quiet unless she was sleeping or hiding, when she was playful the quiet was almost suffocating.
"Oh I think it would be all right," she paused in her steps trying to think of something fitting for the moment. When nothing particular came to mind, she eased into a familiar tune.
"I know you I walked with you once upon a dream."
"I know you the gleam is so familiar a gleam in your eyes."
"Yes I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem."
"But if I know you, I know what you'll do."
"You'll love me at once, the way you did once."
"Upon a dream." "Upon a dream."
"I know you the gleam is so familiar a gleam in your eyes."
"Yes I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem."
"But if I know you, I know what you'll do."
"You'll love me at once, the way you did once."
"Upon a dream." "Upon a dream."