Sun Child |✔|

|41|

heliophilia 

(n.) desire to stay in the sun; love of sunlight

***

I sit on the back porch.

It's something I gravitate towards now for some reason.

I'm not doing anything.

No painting.

Just sitting and staring at the sky and the swaying clouds that pass overby.

I turn at the sound of the opening door and see Sandra walk out, the familiar smile on her face.

"Here Luna, I thought you would like some Hot coco."

I nod and gratefully accept the warmth.

Sandra stands next to me, her head raised as she takes in the sky with me.

"What's so interesting about the clouds Luna?"

I grow thoughtful over that.

"I guess...I envy them."

Sandra laughs at that and I smile. She sits down next to me, "You envy clouds?"

"Don't you?"

A doubtful expression grows on Sandra's face, "I don't know what the clouds have that I should envy."

I look up, taking in the white forms. I don't know if I saw them as beautiful or not. Maybe they were scenic, but I always thought them hard to paint.

"Floating along...going wherever the breeze takes them," I reach my hand up, mimicking like I could touch the cotton like forms that hung, suspended in the sky, "You can reach out and try to grab them, but you can never grasp it."

I turn at the sound of Sandra laughing. She stands, shaking her head, "Luna, you are full of strange thoughts."

I blush, suddenly embarrassed at my weird rants about clouds.

I give Sandra a small smile, "I guess."

She shakes her head, still laughing as she walks away, leaving me clinging to my hot coco.

I sigh and place a hand on my chest, taking in the nervous beat that was jolting my heart.

Maybe it was better if I stayed silent.

My role as Luna could be just a quiet support for Atlas. But maybe it was better if I didn't speak.

I look back up at the clouds and sigh.

There could be something wrong with me.

Wolves didn't think like this.

They didn't paint or spout meaningless philosophical words about clouds.

They hunted and trained, and stayed within a pack.

I gasp though when a sudden thought hits me.

I'm not a wolf.

My wolf is buried in my mind.

She isn't there, shaping and molding my thoughts- making me see the world through a double point of view.

It's just me.

I don't have an animal instinct.

I don't even have that urge to go out and fight, to hunt down the evil that has been stalking me.

I cling to my hot coco, letting the burning warmth on my hand bring me back to reality as I suddenly realize why I'm apart from everyone.

I suddenly start to laugh.