[Gift] FoS '25 | Confection
When Stormbringer found the obsidian in the middle of the Sparknest, she knew she had to bring Scipio.
It was beautiful to look at, glossy even before polishing, a river of black glass dully reflecting the colorful bursts of the eruptions overhead.
Stormbringer knew well that Scipio likely wouldn’t appreciate the aesthetics of the scene before her, but the thought only made the corners of her mouth pull into a smile, the finned crest on her head easing to lay down against the mane running down her spine. After all, one did not avoid bakeries and patisseries when one feared a feast for the eyes would be less appreciated than a feast for the stomach.
When Stormbringer promised her a surprise, her dam’s eyes widened and her thick, clubbed tail wagged cheerily behind her.
Stormbringer wasn’t disappointed.
They crossed the ridge that led down into the old caldera where the line of obsidian lay, and Scipio’s breathless, joyous squeaking could be heard over the next thundering eruption.
“I saw it and thought of you,” Stormbringer admitted.
Scipio nudged her spikey head towards Stormbringer, who alighted on it. Warm, deep, rasping, Scipio used some of her few words to address her daughter: “My good egg.” Her cheery squeaks continued as Scipio trotted down into the trench, the noise thrumming almost breathlessly through her torn throat, as if the excitement were too much.
Scipio stopped at the edge of the obsidian, and began the work of extracting it from the ground. She began to dig and scratch with her middle and back limbs, tearing up dark, ashen earth.
As soil landed in Stormbringer’s feathers, she took off, settling some ways away to preen herself clean and watch the magnificent single-mindedness of her dam.
If the potential enormity of her task occurred to her at all, Scipio didn’t show it. She dug happily, exposing the side of the obsidian, then worked to widen the hole, giving herself more space. A chunk exposed on the side, she stood and turned, whipping her powerful tail and smashing the spiked club into the obsidian behind her again and again, with scarcely a break to gather her strength or keep herself from becoming dizzy.
When the first chunk of obsidian flew off the vein, Scipio gave a victorious cry then fell on it like prey. Her four forefeet fumbled with it before she managed to get the mineral safely in hand. Then, without hesitation, she barged towards Stormbringer, a bounce in her step, stopping a hair’s breadth away to place the chunk of obsidian before her.
Stormbringer, used to Scipio’s enthusiasm, didn’t flinch, grinning in fondness at her. “First bite already!”
Scipio nodded eagerly, then, after a moment’s silence, insisted: “Yours.”
That took her aback. Stormbringer blinked several times. “No, no. I brought you so you— it’s yours, Scipio. I want you to have it. I don’t need any.”
Scipio’s face fell, and she settled on her haunches, her middle legs coming down to brace against the ground. “Gift,” she insisted, reaching out with one to nudge it closer.
And oh. Oh. “You’re sure?” It wasn’t that Stormbringer doubted Scipio’s kind heart or that she knew precisely what she was saying. It was just terribly thoughtful, and thought wasn’t Scipio’s strongest suit. Scipio nodded enthusiastically, and Stormbringer couldn’t let her down.
She crunched through the obsidian with a smile, and Scipio practically glowed with joy. “Good egg,” she repeated again, all fondness.
“Good dam,” Stormbringer said, genuine in her praise.
Delighted, Scipio ran back down into the caldera to chip off some obsidian for herself. Stormbringer’s smile didn’t fade for hours.
