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Trish muttered the words, focused more on matching the cadence and speed at which Juniper chanted than getting it right on the first try. The second run was smoother, still clumsy on the final bits because she found the words humorous. The third run was good. Solid. Firm. She kept it.

[color=#C51E3A]“From now until then, may this magic unite. Bind us always in Nature’s light.”[/color]

Trish could feel an unknown force surge through her body. Almost hot to the touch in a sense, like a fire being reignited as another log touches the simmering flames. Familiar, almost, as her muscles tensed in response. Because, fuck, it felt suspiciously like that first time her bedding caught on fire and she got grounded for smoking indoors. Not that she [i]did[/i] smoke, but at that point she’d latched onto the lie and had long since stopped correcting how her parents misinterpreted any consequences when they caught her.

“Beatrice Olivia McKinley!”

Trish could already imagine the shrill shriek of her perfectionist mother, wide-eyed and fuming when she caught her daughter in the middle of changing her pillow cover. The argument that followed had the punk girl’s signature scowl staring into some polished, practiced mug that her mother used when counting to ten and composing herself. Trish simply threw expletives and obscene gestures at a living brick wall of a human being. Because in the end what mattered to her parents was composure, meticulousness and not looking like next week’s gossip.

Trish’s face scrunched, instinct telling her to fight the feeling while another softer voice told her to relax. Breathe in, breathe out. What normally followed the sudden heat and burning sensation wasn’t the anxious licking of flames at every flammable furniture or object, but the crackle of a campfire after a long trek in the mud. Trish’s body decided it could relax at that. Set shoulders lowering, flexed fingers not curling into fists but a natural state as though wanting to hold that feeling.

Trish’s body glowed, then that spark of a fire at her fingertips. Not aggressive, but measured where the small flame grew and crawled along tattooed arms up to her shoulders. Clothing [i]not[/i] catching fire this time around. Good. Standing here naked would’ve been awkward. Her magic flickered, the charm activating through a newfound bond, flame-like wings sprawling outward from her shoulders. It held for a moment, then settled back. Retreating the way the flame came.

… And what lingered wasn’t the smoke of a raging forest fire, but the soothing warmth of something settling like found family.

[color=#C51E3A]“That was… New.”[/color] Definitely unexpected. For once Trish didn’t offer her usual quip or any sideways comment. Just drank in the experience for a moment.