"EmberrrRRRRRR!!"

Dany does a frame-perfect pout and footstomp as Ember hoists herself up onto the counter to watch. Her hair is lank and still sticking to her scalp in places; her ears droop and her smile is weak. But she is here, because this deserves to be witnessed. She lies on her belly, head on her hands, feet tucked neatly over her hips, and watches: the kneading of the dough, the leaning on the crutch, the way that this Bella handles the dough with something like care and something like violence.

"We did it all for you, you know," she says, eventually, ignoring Dany's small hands insistently trying to slide her off the counter. "The running. To the stars. We wanted to give you something that was better than [i]this[/i], something you couldn't even dream of. Something bigger than croissants, even."

In her memory she is biting into a fresh pastry on an unusually sharp morning, memorizing how many people take which intersections as she chews, and the part of her that is not watching as a spy is flaring her nostrils to catch the scent of the hot tea wafting up from the mug, all white and molded like wool, a series of bumps easy to let the fingers slip into. In her memory she is seeking the company of Dolce even when she cannot remember him with anything but her heart.

"The croissant would have been easier, huh?" She's talking out loud, but in the way that a scout does. Drawing out. Watching. Tail thumping against her own thighs. "Because there's room for croissants in the world that's inside your heart here, right?" Watch the face. Watch the tell. Learn. Don't let your eye list out everything there is to know. Just practice seeing. Open your eyes and then open them again.

There's not room in the world of Bella-Whoever-She-Is, the one who scared Dany, for Bella-as-she-was to get a pastry like this, is there?

Get to the top and take the crown. Get to the top and kick the ladder down. Get to the top and become your wife's mom.

There's probably some sort of therapist back on Tellus who would have a banner day with [i]that[/i] one.

She finally flops off the counter, forcing Dany to jump back - which she does. Even small Dany is more athletic than most people expect of her. She stares up at the ceiling, at the lights, at Dolce blocking part of the lights. "...I wanted a world where everyone could decide to make a croissant if they wanted. Does that...? Never mind." No sense in hammering it in. But, still. Good to say out loud.

Especially since Dany's here, too. You never know what you might be able to actually teach yourself here and there.