The little Princess knew better than to dare bother her mother when company was about. Intrusive thoughts of a child are quite dangerous ; which left caution to the wind as Octavia silently approached and gave a swift ( but gentle, ) peck to her leg before running off.
ㅤㅤㅤAt the sudden, fleeting, & firm contact against her leg, Stella’s feathers bristle & she starts; emerald orbs blink before snapping downward, just barely catching the sight of the little fledgling darting away. For a moment, she is… rather still, unsure of what just transpired —ㅤStella is still new to being a mother. Honestly? Sometimes she even forgets about little Octaviaㅤ( a new feeling: guilt, for what fault did the child have? But Stella doesn’t like to swell on this )ㅤas they had nannies for her; it’s rare for her to even see the child that often,
ㅤㅤㅤIn truth, she’s surprised that Octavia even wanted to come in contact with Stella; it fills her with a rather peculiar feeling, one she can’t place her talon on. Her grip tightens just ever so, taking care not to break the delicate wine glass; only the faintest tremor betrays her otherwise calm composure. The matriarch of the house exhales slowly, jaw working —ㅤsomeone was getting fired today, that’s for certain… But she’s just only less mad than she’d thought she’d be; even at the giggles / gossip of her guests. As soon as her gaze flickers to them, their attention is magically & blissfully directed elsewhere.ㅤFoolish child, intrusive, a nuisance —ㅤStella takes a sip of her wine, straightening her posture back to perfection,
ㅤ[ … a cute little nuisance, though, she thinks, ]ㅤHer gaze follows Octavia’s poorly hidden form, just behind one of Stolas’s carnivorous plants, dark telltale feathers just barely peeking out from behind the oversized leaves. With rehearsed elegance, Stella places her glass down & excuses herself from the group of guests, detaching from the gathering. The buzz of conversation carries on without her as she glides across the room, her steps precise & deliberate. When she finally reaches her, she pauses; her shadow falling over Octavia’s poorly concealed hiding spot. At the sight of the child’s wide eyesㅤ( caught ! )ㅤStella hesitates; the instinctive reprimand rises in her throat, but it falters, beak pressing into a thin line,
ㅤㅤㅤInstead, Stella awkwardly extends a hand, the motion stiff & uncertain, fingers twitching just ever so. Her gaze flicker briefly to the guests, who are thankfully still absorbed in their conversations, before returning to Octavia.ㅤ❛ Come, ❜ㅤshe says,ㅤ❛ This is no place for you, ❜ㅤTalons tighten slightly around her daughter’s smaller ones; her grip is uncertain, unfamiliar with such a gesture, such a motherly touch. She begins to guide Octavia toward the hall, her strides slow enough to match the girl’s shorter steps,
ㅤㅤㅤBefore they reach the door, the blasted nanny imp finally sweeps in with impeccable timing, her presence a relief Stella would never voice aloud, holding out her arms for Octavia. Stella hesitates for a moment, before releasing her hand with the same awkward stiffness, stepping back with a curt nod, the stony facade placed back; regal, poised & ready for anything,ㅤ❛ See that she stays out of sight; don’t let it happen again, ❜ㅤshe instructs curtly,
For some reason, she doesn’t want to go to the party anymore…
