Prickle

in sprinkled outside. It was still only light for now, probably barely enough for the family outside to notice it through their fur. As if they would've noticed a downpour, either - they were so absorbed in greeting their little bloom, a tornado could've swept through without their knowledge.

There were only a few of them still left in the Dawn Garden - at least, from their particular cohort - so everyone had been a little surprised when Prickle’s parents did show up. For how happy they looked out there, they were quite late.

Pyrene sighed quietly, resting her face against the window despite the uncomfortable sensation in her cheek fur. Maybe it should've sparked some hope, watching Prickle nuzzle up to her newfound parents, disbelief that they'd even shown already evaporated. Hope that her own fate might be the same; that her family would show up out of the blue and apologize, snuggle up, and whisk her away.

She wasn't holding her breath, though. The rest of them were almost certainly all orphans, even if Prickle had her little miracle outside. If Prickle was even her name anymore. Naming was usually a parent’s job.

The rain was getting heavier outside, thundering against earth and glass. Prickle - or whoever she was now - tried to take a brand new umbrella from her father with unsteady magic, only to lose control and drop it in the mud. She never did have the best grasp.

But her parents laughed it off, one of them holding it over her head instead. They started off through the rain, chattering words Pyrene couldn't hear until they disappeared from view. Prickle hadn't even looked back.

Pyrene turned her head to look back inside the Dawn Garden, ear pressing uncomfortably between her skull and the glass. The younger blooms were squealing and prancing around, tumbling over and bumping into each other, oblivious to anything that had just unfolded outside. Not that it would have mattered to them. Most of them would probably be going home soon, too.

The adults said it wasn't all bad. She'd been offered a job at the castle, so at least she would have somewhere to go - somewhere pretty nice, even. The other orphans were supposed to go with her, too, so at least it wouldn't be totally unfamiliar.

Still, she felt like more of a nuisance than anything. If they did this for every orphaned bloom, the castle had to be chock full of help already. Were they just inventing new jobs to make them feel wanted? Were the orphanages too full?

No matter the reason, she couldn't say she felt particularly wanted. Castle or otherwise, a job wasn't the same as having a family.

It was unfortunate she’d only be able to experience one of them.