"Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t like climbing. You are a cat. You’re supposed to not be afraid of climbing." Amelia sat on a branch of a very large tree not too far off the ground. This wasn’t going to work if he was going to be a grump. "Ches, come on I promise it won’t be horrible."
A groan. Strange that was the thing that made her smile before she kept climbing and climbing. When near to the top she walked carefully to the on the sturdy branch. Good, they weren’t too late. Amelia swung her legs back and fort as she heard Cheshire climbing up, only speaking again when he sat down. “Told you it’d be worth it.”
In front of them was the sun setting on the sea. Storybrooke seemed to shine a bit in the dying light. Amelia looked straight ahead almost a bit afraid to see Cheshire’s reaction. “Best view of the town. It always looks…normal from up here.” Amelia bit her lip slightly.
"Happy Birthday. I thought this would be better than just another scarf. Unless you want another scarf. But-yeah. Happy Birthday Cheshire."
"There are differences in being fearful or an act and simply not wanting or enjoying to do it." Stiff palms held balled in pockets, emerald hues contrasted to the burning sky as the Cheshire gazed up towards the girl laying in the branch.
A sense of esteem breezed over whilst watching the lost girl in what he considered to be her natural dwelling. His lips folded and with a brow quirked he sighed in an over-dramatic manner with his eyes rolling back with his head. Palms withdrew from his pockets and clung to the bark and the lowest hanging branch as the man of feline antics began to pull his way up the tree.
"Don't say words you cannot keep." His words were strained into a groan. It had been many upon many years lived through different lives since he had come across the need to climb a tree, most notably in the dawn of the past when it served dual as a natural enjoyment and a means of protection. Having moved from lands to land the need in which to scale to the tops of trees wore thin yet still the skill lingered to the back of his mind, stored away in case of ever the situation arose, as apparently it had now.
After wiggling his legs from the few twined and mangled branches, he had finally reached the main branch which Amelia sat across, her legs dangling just by his face as he pulled himself to sit across the same branch, his back laying flat against the bark of the tree. "I don't see wha--"
Chester's voice cut off as he laid a glance to the scene before the two. He had seen the sunset, rather many sunsets, in his time but there was something about this time that made it more -- individual. Thin, roseate, lips parted and a short gasp of breathe is silently heard through the gulls cawing at the marine, colored by a light hue of golden yellows and burnt reds crying from the sky. There wasn't a break in the water and it lay still, only a few waves rippling by the life beneath .It was so serine.
"Yeah." His voice was a shallow whisper. The crease of his lips curled up in a faint smile, one that mocked that of a schoolchild would give; honest and genuine.
Maybe growing 'older' wouldn't be so bad after all.
