So here was the thing - Prima Rosa had been doing a lot of thinking over the past couple of months, and she had realized something very important:
She was not happy.
She wasn't happy by herself. She wasn't happy in her little cave. She wasn't happy with her life - such as her life was. It had taken visiting her best friend, Cirro Strata, and seeing first-hand what happiness looked like; what it felt like. The air around Cirro was different, and not just because it was closer to sea-level and not up in the thin air of the mountains Prima called home.
She wanted that. Prima wanted to be the subject of someone's envy, to put it crassly; she wanted to be the reason someone else realized there was more to life. She wanted... well, she didn't know if she wanted a mate and children, like Cirro Strata had, but she wanted something. Something new.
"Cirro?" Prima called as she landed. She hadn't let her know she was coming in advance; in fact, Prima thought it likely that Cirro believed she wouldn't see Prima again until the end of the year, if then, but Prima was done with shyness, done with tiptoeing. Done with living up - or down - to other people's expectations.
She was going to figure out her own expectations, and then she was going to surpass them. This was the last year she would spend as a shadow of herself.
"Cirro! Cirro Strata! Are you here? Hello? Helloooo?"
Cirro had just fallen asleep. Her children, adolescents now, were off exploring together with their father, leaving Cirro Strata with a rare afternoon all to herself. Naturally, she was going to spend it asleep.
Or at least, that was the plan.
She was dreaming - and in her dream, her children were calling her name. But they weren't calling 'Mama', they were calling her by her full name, asking if she was here. Of course she was here, where else would she be? Hello? Helloooo?
Cirro Strata woke with a start, adrenaline kicking her to her feet immediately. Danger--?
Then she recognized the voice, and calmed immediately, only to have anxiety chase that momentary relief of recognition away. What was Prima Rosa doing here? Unannounced? Something must be wrong.
"Rosa?" Cirro called, emerging from the cave they called home. "Rosa, what's wrong? What's happened?" She glanced over her friend - nothing appeared physically wrong, there was no blood pouring from an open wound, no broken wings. No tears, no sign of emotional damage. No, when Cirro got close enough to see Prima Rosa's face clearly, all she saw was a fierce determination.
Cirro Strata raised her eyebrows. "What's going on? Not that you're not always welcome, of course, but--" Cirro shook her head, trying to shake away the remnants of sleep that were clouding her brain. She wasn't entirely certain she wasn't dreaming still.
"Would you like to come in? Have some food? You must be tired from your flight. We can talk about it, whatever 'it' is."
Prima Rosa wanted very badly to come in and have some snacks, rest and enjoy her best friend's company. But she knew - she knew - that if she did so, she'd lose all her nerve. She'd lose her gumption, and her drive to do what she knew she needed to. She'd let Cirro Strata comfort her, cajole her, convince herself that her life wasn't so bad. That many Soquili would kill for a life like Prima Rosa's.
So Prima Rosa shook her head. "I can't, I'm sor--" Prima Rosa cut herself off with a tightening of her jaw. "Well, no, I'm not sorry. I'm done being sorry." Prima Rosa saw the surprise on Cirro's face, but didn't let it distract her. "You didn't-- you didn't do anything wrong," Rosa clarified, before the surprise could morph to hurt. "And you know I love you, will always love you, but - I've made up my mind. I'm leaving." Prima Rosa's tail twitched behind her. "I'm going-- somewhere. Somewhere else. I'm tired of doing nothing with every day of my life, Cirro. And I just - thought that someone should know that I'm leaving. So you don't worry, or if you come to visit and I'm not there, that you don't panic or think something has happened. I mean, something has happened, but--it's a good thing. It is."
I think. I hope.
She stared at Cirro Strata, half-daring her to challenge the idea, but was flooded with relief when Cirro blinked, and smiled - a big smile. A proud smile.
"Well, it's about time, isn't it?"
((WC:
Prima: 503
Cirro: 262))
