at first this whole thing had seemed cute. make a cookie in the likeness of yourself, or even anyone else. the first thought that occurred had been to of course just make herself and be done with it. things hadnât quite gone to plan, and instead sheâd chosen to make a miniature sized cookie of someone she knew from back home.
       lately everything lately reminded her of home, and of those she knew. people that she missed. this was no different. dizzy wanted to bat away the painful emotion  ( get a hold of yourself ! this isnât like you. no time for tears. ) the longer she remained here, the more it felt more of a prison. dizzy held onto hope that soon she would be reunited with everyone, and happy. yet the more that time passed, the more homesick that she felt. what if they all forgot her ? it was a pain she didnât want to feel again after her own adoptive parents had eventually left her all on her own as a child.
        a sigh squeezes from her chest until she feels no air in her lungs. no time for tears. she raises an arm to wipe tears away and clear her bleary sight. she canât let anyone see her crying, lest she ruin the elated atmosphere.
the coat is a generous gift from giorno, cozy and warm without sacrificing lamboâs normal styleâif it could be called that, really, and if babies could have styleâfuzzy and white with black splotches that make him look more cow than ever. if he didnât know better (and really, he almost didnât), heâd think himself a marshmallow and try to chomp on the material.
he has other sweets to occupy him at the moment, though, courtesy of a fibonacci kiosk he had somehow figured out. in his hands is a gingerbread cookie in the likeness of, predictably, another cow. it is no secret that he misses his pet gyuudon, misses mamma, misses everyone. he is no stranger to these lonelier thoughts, pitching more than a few fits during his time on the islandâhow many months had it been? his birthday had passed, so had halloween; now christmas, too, would be spent without his makeshift famiglia back in namimori.
and perhaps kindred spirits gravitate to each other. for how tiny and filterless they are (and maybe precisely because they are filterless), children especially seem to have an eye for these thingsâeven lambo is not to be underestimated once he gets a good look. marching out of the larger festival commotion, he spots a teal-haired woman who is looking less than merry, despite all the magic around them. his eyes linger on her for a few more seconds. then he looks back down at his cow cookie, and then back up again.
okay. maybe, just this once, heâll be good. tiny boots dragging through the snow, lambo sloshes up to dizzy and gives her hem a tug.
âgyuuuuu. big sis, lambo-san will share this with you.â the cookie itself is nearly bigger than both of his black mittens holding it, but they snap the gingerbread treat in half. surprisingly, the pieces turn out fairly equal. lambo waves one up at her, looking expectant. itâs got one udder and more vanilla frosting than chocolate, and maybe sheâs already got a better cookie, but the offer is still sweet.
