Flitter's Friday

Flitter's yawn broke the still morning silence.

She struggled briefly against the suppressive influence of the oppressively comfortable bedspread embracing her, only to find that she was held fast by a more insistent grasp still. Overcome with a sense of claustrophobia, her eyes shot open, but when the bright morning sun had finished blinding her she relaxed. Cloudchaser's sleeping face filled her view, surrounded by the choppy blue and white waves of her unstyled mane. Her lips were slightly parted, and Flitter could feel the soft warmth of each of her peaceful breaths against her muzzle.

Flitter opened her mouth in preparation to speak, but thought better of it. Instead, she opted to close the tiny gap yet remaining between them, losing herself in the familiar heat of those soft lips. When at last she withdrew, she expected to find Cloudchaser's eyes opening in appreciation of the good morning kiss. She was rewarded instead by only the slightest stir from her sibling, a little snort, and a thin trickle of saliva running from the edge of those lovely lips to mark their pillow. She shook against her slumbering twin in a barely repressed giggle.

When the little fit had finished, the pegasus began the laborious work of very carefully disentangling from the sleeping mare's embrace without disturbing her further. Flitter gingerly shimmied, first down and then back. A gasp escaped as she very carefully drew her partly-stiff shaft away from the insistent warmth of Cloudchaser's pressing thighs, and she searched her sibling's features in the expectation that this would rouse her. Cloudchaser remained as still as ever, and Flitter wondered at what quirk of biology allowed the pegasus to naturally rise just after dawn every other day of the week yet hibernate through Saturday mornings.

Finally freed from the loving death grip, Flitter yawned and sat up in bed, stretching her back and legs and feeling the slight, residual ache of her activity yesterday and into the night. As she did most mornings, she allowed her eyes to drink in the familial warmth of their shared living space, tracing a lazy arch over each of those tiny reminders of everything else they shared.

Her lazy reverie was broken at once by a colourful glint below the window. She nearly crashed to the floor as she rolled out of bed, barely catching herself on all four legs before bounding over to her butterfly enclosures. There, fanning its spotted wingspan among the highest leaves was a single large butterfly. Its wings moved slowly, catching the morning light and shimmering with rainbow incandescence.

Flitter spun in place, drawing a deep breath to shout, but the softly rising and falling silhouette of the pony beneath the blankets stayed her voice. With a little bounce and a flit of her wings, she fluttered to the door, deciding she'd rather surprise her sister by waking her up to a home-cooked breakfast.