[i wish... even when sleeping, isabela feels a little guilty for whispering the words. there are things that she wishes for, of course there are. but she's so used to putting abuela's wishes first and thinking about what's best for her family that those secret desires have been put aside long ago.
and yet it doesn't take isabela long to miss her family. the flowers around her are strangers too, and for the life of her she can't seem to make any others grow. the urge to panic is naturally high, but she forces herself to stop, to breathe, and tries to regain her usual grace. she has no appetite, and this little hunk of bread in the satchel pales beside her mother's cooking anyway, but she does hold the little potion bottle up. isabela arches a perfect eyebrow at it.]
Drink me. I don't even know what you are.
[she takes a deep breath, and mingled scent of the poinsettias and mistletoe are calming in their own way. before long she's approaching someone with a light smile.]
Hello? Are you new as well?
bonfire:
[is it ladylike for your teeth to chatter? isabela's just not a big fan of the cold, especially not when the sleeves of her dress are short and the hem leaves her ankles exposed. she hugs herself tightly as she stands as close to the fire as she dares, until she's finally warm enough to stretch her arms out to it.]
Ah...much better.
[the warmth of a hot chocolate helps even more. halfway into the night and isabela now sits at the bonfire's edge, legs tucked under her as she sips the warm, sweet drink.]
A story?
[she seems surprised by the request. would a song do? no...no, probably not. she taps her chin thoughtfully.]
What about the story of my magical house? Oh, or how I almost had to get married.
isabela madrigal | encanto
[i wish... even when sleeping, isabela feels a little guilty for whispering the words. there are things that she wishes for, of course there are. but she's so used to putting abuela's wishes first and thinking about what's best for her family that those secret desires have been put aside long ago.
and yet it doesn't take isabela long to miss her family. the flowers around her are strangers too, and for the life of her she can't seem to make any others grow. the urge to panic is naturally high, but she forces herself to stop, to breathe, and tries to regain her usual grace. she has no appetite, and this little hunk of bread in the satchel pales beside her mother's cooking anyway, but she does hold the little potion bottle up. isabela arches a perfect eyebrow at it.]
Drink me. I don't even know what you are.
[she takes a deep breath, and mingled scent of the poinsettias and mistletoe are calming in their own way. before long she's approaching someone with a light smile.]
Hello? Are you new as well?
bonfire:
[is it ladylike for your teeth to chatter? isabela's just not a big fan of the cold, especially not when the sleeves of her dress are short and the hem leaves her ankles exposed. she hugs herself tightly as she stands as close to the fire as she dares, until she's finally warm enough to stretch her arms out to it.]
Ah...much better.
[the warmth of a hot chocolate helps even more. halfway into the night and isabela now sits at the bonfire's edge, legs tucked under her as she sips the warm, sweet drink.]
A story?
[she seems surprised by the request. would a song do? no...no, probably not. she taps her chin thoughtfully.]
What about the story of my magical house? Oh, or how I almost had to get married.