Uwaritace
01-03-2018, 01:25 AM
If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky
You can hide underneath me and come out at night
You can hide underneath me and come out at night
Even if the magic surrounding Uwaritace was temporary, the imagery of the great mother tree standing tall, whole, and decorated lifted the worries from Taivas's slender shoulders. In this magicked realm of winter, at least the girl could find peace and respite, if only as part of a beautiful illusion.
Her lifted spirits were mirrored in many faces, including the darkset features of the boy she had saved. He looks at her with some sort of innocent shock as the snow rains down on him from her well aimed cowkick, his young features dusted with frost. Her twinkle of a laugh ends with another smile on her features, ever so briefly, before she begins to notice them.
Gifts.
They begin to flow out from the matrons toward all those around the tree, scarves wrapping around necks and charms dangling from others. Suddenly, a tug on her mane is felt; in place of her silver bead, she can see an odd medallion, weaving itself carefully into a braid. A new sort of wonderment fills her dark eyes, but her face is slack and emotionless, and her attention turns back to Waker.
She notices within his own mane, small baubles and decorations now sit, glimmering like tiny stars in a sea of dark. He looks at Uwaritace himself, and admiring the glimmers and glitz of the tinsel. A wonderful gift to be received on a cold day in the middle of summer, to be sure.
"They look nice," she says, motioning to the beads interspersed in Waker's mane, as well as the background he stood against.
Her lifted spirits were mirrored in many faces, including the darkset features of the boy she had saved. He looks at her with some sort of innocent shock as the snow rains down on him from her well aimed cowkick, his young features dusted with frost. Her twinkle of a laugh ends with another smile on her features, ever so briefly, before she begins to notice them.
Gifts.
They begin to flow out from the matrons toward all those around the tree, scarves wrapping around necks and charms dangling from others. Suddenly, a tug on her mane is felt; in place of her silver bead, she can see an odd medallion, weaving itself carefully into a braid. A new sort of wonderment fills her dark eyes, but her face is slack and emotionless, and her attention turns back to Waker.
She notices within his own mane, small baubles and decorations now sit, glimmering like tiny stars in a sea of dark. He looks at Uwaritace himself, and admiring the glimmers and glitz of the tinsel. A wonderful gift to be received on a cold day in the middle of summer, to be sure.
"They look nice," she says, motioning to the beads interspersed in Waker's mane, as well as the background he stood against.
When I turn jet black, and you show off your light
I live to let you shine
I live to let you shine
Taivas
