[A battle won, in Alia's mind, that brief flash of Alina's mind from that night they'd slept curled together like children, seeking the comfort of another body, another breathing, moving, living, warm creature to press against burned into her soul. She'd barely glanced it, invading like she had, barging in careless and heedless, but she recalls the edges, like running her hands over the shape of things in the dark. Horror and fear, the bite of despair, the roiling sickness of self-loathing. The way Alia saw Alina and the way Alina saw herself, clashing together, two different girls in one.

So she knows: even reaching a pause in denial of all she is (lovely and bright and beautiful) is a victory. Wars are won by skirmish after skirmish, holy or no, though few things are as holy as convincing Alina of her worth.]

Speed isn't everything, dearest, best beloved. [Alia kicks her feet up, sending feathers swirling.] Paul may impress with an initial sprint, but I do not tire and I do not surrender. Though I'll admit, he has better stamina than most. [Normal things to say about your brother.

Then she giggles, the sound near-giddy with the warmth in Alina's eyes, the sight thrilling Alia to her soul, actually causing her to catch her breath. Lovely and lovely and lovely, she repeats to herself, saving up each fervent declaration until Alina is ready, until Alia can slip back into her mind invited and fill it with her ardor.] Haven't you ever met a goose? They're ferocious! [She bares her teeth on a hiss.]