Mira shivers to be touched. To be held. To be guided. To be seen. To be spoken to. To be loved. Words ring in her ears and they pull breaths from her mouth in little panting gasps for want of other language. Her fur is sleek, her tongue is just visible, her posture is languid, her ears are pivoted, her tail is curled tightly. She speaks, and speaks, and speaks, and speaks, but nothing comes from the one direction she wanted to. 

"Whole." she manages at last.

Solarel is using the word in a different way than the scholars intended. Not incorrectly, if it is at least on purpose. But still. Different. It pulls her short. Mira's heart is a bird locked inside her ribs, fluttering desperately and trying to escape. Her tongue is dry. She hears velcro; it makes her twitch. Retch, even. 

She tilts her head in question. And then she takes one hand and softly strokes Matty under the chin with it.

"Whole." she says again.

Her hand passes by the energetic young hybrid, over to Kirala. She puts it atop a shoulder and squeezes, with a nod.

"Whole." that word again, sharper this time. More of the richness of her voice creeps into it.

She moves again, to Slate this time. She wraps both arms around her oldest partner, and drapes herself overtop of the mechanic's protective body to stare at Solarel.

"Whole." every time she says it, the word grows. What had been a tremulous whisper at the start has lifted itself into a full purr: pleasure, safety, vulnerability, reflex.

She detaches from her retinue and crosses the distance as though walking a tightrope, her arms stretched to either side. She brings them forward, brings them up. She takes Solarel by both sides of her face, and pulls their foreheads together.

"Whole," she whispers, and the word is more intimate than it's ever been.

Whole, Mira's hands slide down the scales of Solarel's neck. Whole, caress the shoulders. Whole, over the breasts, just the barest brush. Whole, holding her hips. Whole, whole, whole, whole, the embrace is hotter and brighter than any light show, any mecha, any goddess, any star.

She lets go. Two steps backward, both measured. Her eyes fall to the floor again.

"Fractured," she tries this time, "Necessary to be whole."

She spins, and her hand gestures to everyone around her.

"Cannot. Give. Oneself. Without. Having. Pieces. To. Offer. I am. I am. I am. I [i]am[/i]..."

Whole. She doesn't say it this time. Her entire body is shaking with the effort of standing here. She ignores the worried looks from her family, ignores the fluttering of her ribbons against the motion of her weakness, ignores the toxic smell of the flowers on her head.

"...Ready. To give you the gift. I have been preparing. Since we parted. I. Understand. Now. Do not lose. Solarel. We must... fight. One more time."