Everyone knows about how gentle Mishka is—everyone sees her as the kind, caring, older sister, except for one person. A coatl named Hamadi. At first this irritated her—who was he to judge her? True, she didn’t want to just be that kind older sister, but how was a dull, colorless coatl such as him able to judge her? And, sure, she wasn’t a full, Fire-born coatl like Astarte, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know the rules. Everyone told her of them—even her father criticized the amount of white she had on her, even though she had the same amount of white as her mother and he still mated with her.

Yet, even though this Hamadi made fun of her with his biting tongue, and even though she hated him, she couldn’t help but prolong their conversations by saying one, last unnecessary thing, or asking even the simplest of questions. She didn’t know why this was happening, but it was, and she told one of her closest friends about this issue. Her friend simply laughed and said a single word: “Love.” Mishka cringed at the thought of it, but the word still felt so right, so true.

She hated it.

Luckily for her, however, only a week later did Hamadi come up to her, stuttering and mumbling about something she couldn’t even remotely hear, only for him to suddenly blurt out his feelings. It caught Mishka off-guard, because, after all, how could she be in love with a dull, colorless coatl, and, moreover, how could such a love be requited? She chose not to think of those, and instead simply smiled, twining her tail with his.