While Clair was pregnant, she spent a great deal of time planning Angelina's education. Not for her was waiting three years to begin. In the womb, Clair could feel the formless dreams of her child-to-be. They would be the vehicle. From the day she was born and onwards, Clair was in her dreams, gently shaping them.
Tonight, Angie dreamed of flying above the city on metal limbs, secure in Clair's arms. Together, they lighted on a rooftop, and Clair balanced the infant dreamling on her knees, pulling her to her feet. "Can you walk, love? Stand up for me and walk?" She ran a hand down her legs and arms, strengthening them, aging her to three or so. "My beautiful little girl...."
This was an innocent dream, empty of anyone but the two of them, crystalline in the purity of the city that Clair had constructed for her daughter.