Sometimes, Orion gave Vivilene a twisted sense of comfort.

In a way, it was a home away from home. It was dark, but not too dark-- the star-studded ceiling offered a faint milky sheen over rock like moonlight; it made it easier to see without bumping into the occasional ruined building or stepping on a painful stone. It wasn't too hot, and it wasn't too cold. It wasn't too wet, or too dry, or very loud.

And, as a bonus, one of her favourite persons lived here.

"Pride?" She whispered into the dark for her grandfather, but even she knew that he likely wouldn't be able to hear her at that volume. It was... one of those days-- she could only comfortably speak if her voice was below even a whisper, and if someone were to speak over her or even ask her to talk louder, she would shut down completely.

Her family understood that, though -- always. She had developed ways of speaking non-verbally with her father and siblings, sometimes through magic and sometimes through gestures and facial expressions alone. Pride shared some of the magic she had, too, so when Vivilene had bad days, it was always easiest to communicate with him through magical means, because they could both uphold the link that connected their minds.

Meeting strangers, though? Absolutely out of the question. Vivilene would not even know what to do if someone she didn't know approached her right now.

Vivilened choked. "I have.. grapes," she muttered softly, one hand around her shawl and the other holding the satchel of fruit. "They're, um.. for you."

At first, Vivilene also expected Pride.

It's a half-second before she realised that 1) Pride usually approaches a little more loudly and 2) Pride is not that much smaller than her. She found herself reflexively craning herself away from the sight of a bouncing possum before forcing a smile (that reached her eyes, but her eyebrows remained worriedly furrowed) towards the stranger. Common equiette, of course.

She'd even started to conjure the first syllable of a 'hello' before being bombarded with a question. No one (bar the Orthoclase) had ever actually been demanding and borderline rude before-- she knew the word Fuck because she knew her father to say it when he was frustrated. She knew Hunter to say it when he was hurt.

... so, was something... wrong?

Cervidae ears dropped a little as Vivilene looked over the descending marsipual, but found no immediate injury. "I'm Vivilene," she choked, closer to mouthing the words rather than actually speaking them, her weight shifting anxiously from hoof to hoof. It might have been better for her to run and find shelter or Pride or both; but she found herself rooted to the spot, fidgeting with her fingers.

In fact, it felt like much more than her legs had frozen up, all of a sudden. A strange little croak left her throat as she fussed over what to say next, what to do, how to make sure everything was all right-- but her mind spiralled around and around the same few worries without generating any reasonable answer.

Unable to speak. Unable to think. Unable to move.

With a twisted mouth, she stood there in silence, pleading to whatever cosmic presence might be listening to take her out of the situation.

Opie was a cute name.

It might have been comforting, actually, if Vivilene had been given a second to comprehend without having a new question put upon her, and it was a question that she didn't understand. She didn't know what a whatever was and she didn't really know what a banana was, either.

To most, it wouldn't matter. Vivilene hadn't seen anyone bar Opie on her way over, much less someone who was a whatever, and not purple-- but deep down, the hybrid had a nagging fear that somehow, she was going to get this answer wrong.

The fidgeting continued, as her eyes grew like wide saucers, like a deer trapped in headlights.

"I-- I don't know," she stammered softly, in a wheeze of a breath. She couldn't just ask what a whatever was, or what a banana was, after all-- it'd be rude. "I-- I have... grapes...?"

... but they were purple. Unhelpful, she fretted, lifting a hand to her face as her twisted brow and the immediate stress had started to ignite a migraine.

Opie's squint and his words might as well have been a punch in her little stomach (either one, does not matter) and the hybrid's face even twisted painfully as she found herself unable to answer his first question. Something felt lodged in her throat; brambles nestled in her gullet that made her want to gag and choke.

Meanwhile, Opie wanted to know what a grape was, and if he could eat it.

The grapes were not for Opie, however. They weren't even for her, it was a gift for Pride, and that was very important! Ahh, but those thorns kept her on mute; the only thing that Vivilene could spit out was "they're-- purple--" before the shame flooded her darkening face and she hid it away in her hands.

For some reason, this had been the tipping point. She did not deal with stress very well in the first place, and with her mind being on a social lockdown, she had naught else to do but cry and cry and cry. She felt like a little fawn again; lost in the dark, crying for someone to find her and take her home. This only made her cry harder-- she was supposed to be a brave older sister now, after all. Brave eldest sisters didn't cry because someone specifically had requested no purples and Vivilene only had purples to give.

But, there she was-- trembling and sobbing as if Opie had told her he murdered and cannibalized her grandfather. It was stupid, and it was childish, and he hated it. She didn't want to be looked at and once again: this cycle only added more stress onto her weak shoulders, which made her cry even harder.

At this point, Vivilene just wanted to go home.

Once the floodgates had opened, Vivilene could not stop.

She could hear Opie asking her to stop, however, and while she tried, the results were... not great. An enormous huuggghhh took over all other sounds for three seconds and she held her breath for as long as she could, before her shoulders shook so violently that she broke down into twice as many tears as before.

Every time she seemed geared up to stop, to run out of tears, she eventually fell back into sobs that wracked her whole body.

There was one functioning brain cell in her little head that told her what she should have known: she needed help, she needed family. Without her father or siblings immediately nearby, however, there was only one person in the vicinity who's presence could help her calm down.

Trembling fingers parted to look at Opie with pale eyes shimmery with tears. Magic shimmered; a pale light by the gemstone in her belly, and then it faded.

To Opie, it would have been like an intrusive thought. No words, but the instinctual feeling that Vivilene was trying to convey the image of a white deer to him, with a row of sparkling gemstones imbedded into their neck. 'I need him,' she was urging, distantly-- 'I want to see him. Help.'

Even when the spell faded, Vivilene was still watching Opie with pleading eyes as tears spilled down into her hands.