Red’s child came into the world much like any other human child.
Her mother White was the midwife, for she had experience with birth.
The child came with blood and pain and joy, all Red things.
She was the synthesis of Red and White. She was called Rose.
Rose was a scrawny, bone-thin child, but she thrived well enough.
Her skin and hair were pale and White, testament to her involvement.
She had a radiant face, to inspire love and admiration from humanity.
Her eyes were gentle, but glowed with the strength of her color.
Rose took after her mother’s body, but she had her grandmother’s mind.
Where Red would hunger for destruction, Rose would look to transform, instead.
She would see the old and broken and know ways to help.
She would ensure that the whole world saw fire as a gift.