[ P ] flickering flittering flames

Manon feels a shiver go down her spine as she climbs further up the mountainside. Cool wind blows down her flanks and over her face, her paws gradually becoming coated with a faint dusting of snow. No matter what time of the year it is, winter seems to linger here always, casting a shadow over the mountain. But it is different tonight. Instead of darkness, the horizon is painted pink from the festive flames just up ahead. The lovely glow illuminates their pathway, the footsteps of countless other visitors dotting the snow towards the clearing.

Turning around to make sure her companion is still with her, she puffs out a laugh in eagerness, a grin stretched widely across her lips. Excitement fuels her, anticipation brimming in wait of the glorious bonfire that would light up their world. Prancing downwards, she falls in step with Victorian. "Almost there!" she says, already smelling the embers of the fire as they sweep across Tir Na Nog.

She can hear the crackle of logs and the chatter of people growing louder as they approach the main event. It spurs her onwards, her pace accelerating by the second. This would be her second bonfire viewing, having attended the year before, but it would be her first without her parents. When the mention of the event had initially appeared, she had been embarrassed to admit that she had forgotten about Samhain— in fact, it had been Victorian who had mentioned it offhandedly one day. It hadn't taken long to notice the subtle glimmer of intrigue in his eyes before she extended her invitation. Needless to say, it had also been a quick decision.

If it weren't for Victorian, she wonders if she might have attended it alone this year. Sneaking a glance at her friend, she feels appreciation bloom in her chest, joyful that he had been willing to come.

The magnificence of the bonfire is even more beautiful up close in person. Her memories of it have barely changed, but it always manages to take her breath away. Tail wagging, she hops excitedly, eager to see Victorian's reaction. She hopes that he finds it just as thrilling and wonderful as she does.

"one, two, three"

This morning had begun as he had expected. He had awoken early -- before the sun -- and started his journey to Melrose. When he arrived, it was around noon and the sun had beat down from above. That said, an autumn sun had less heat and ferocity than its summer counterpart. Thankful for the warmth, however weak, Victorian had gone about the two tasks he had laid out for himself: 1. Bring Manon this little book he had found (and it had genuinely been a little book, barely bigger than his paw), with each page covered in one picture of a plant. 2. Visit Florence and spend the day with her He had achieved both goals, but not before hearing about Samhain, him asking, and Manon inviting him out. Alas, Florence could not join them for she was too busy studying. So here he was, walking up this steep and winding hill. The scent of smoke lingered in the air and the red light of fire cast a garish glow on the stones and trees. It made Manon almost look red, for her chocolatey fur was like a blank canvas in the gloom. Despite himself, Victorian felt giddy, excited even. His heart thudded swiftly in his chest as he padded up the incline, careful to keep pace with his small guide. Samhain, he repeated internally. A festival of lights guiding the Fae. It sounded silly to him and yet he found himself leaning into the ridiculousness. He wanted to just have fun, he realized. It was the first genuinely good thing to happen since moving to Rionnach. When they entered the festival grounds, Victorian's mouth dropped and he genuinely stood there, frozen and stunned, as he stared up at the beast of a blaze in front of him. "This is..." Victorian gasped, barely able to tear his eyes away from the fire. In fact, he can't for several seconds. When at last he looked away, sun spots obscured his vision. "Manon, this is huge!" "If the accident will."

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The warmth of the flames lick at her cheek, coaxing, beckoning her to go nearer. She inclines her head instinctively, chasing the heat to combat the cold of evening's winter. It's such a good feeling, her eyes flickering shut for a moment as she enjoys the soothing sensation. Were she a feline she might have purred from the comfort, lulling her into a sleepy daze.

It's her friend's exclamation that rouses her back to attention, the sound of her name jerking her awake. She grins happily, tail swishing to and fro at the amazement in Victorian's eyes. "Isn't it?" she says fervently, her own gaze sparkling with earnestness. "Isn't it amazing?"

Prancing forward, her snow-coated paws begin finding purchase on solid ground once more the closer she gets to the bonfire. She ducks past other attendees, giving them all a brief once-over, sharing in their own celebrations. There is laughter and chatter floating about the flames, speaking all manners of dialects and languages that she can barely discern. It seems that tonight, for once, Tir Na Nog is a place for everyone.

"Victorian! Over here!" she calls, waving a paw as she settles in an empty patch that had yet to be taken. "I've found us a spot."

As she waits for him, she looks to the sky. The stars are barely out, covered somewhat by the ember glow of the bonfire, but she can tell— the night is still young and there's still so much time left.

"one, two, three"