amaterasu. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
illuminating) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
eachdraidh2014-09-16 10:33 pm
illuminating) wrote in eachdraidh2014-09-16 10:33 pm
video.
[ How had this happened? A sneeze? A hiccup? A belch? A misplaced thought?
Days ago, the birds twittered and fussed; cawed and clamored, and she had truly promised to do all she could, but she could only find the little ones. The small feathers, and who knew if this would help? But on she collected, doing her best. Then this had happened, two days ago, a day? She can't quite recall.
She's been learning to walk again, and her thoughts fly away with her mouth. A situation both wonderful and troublesome!
But here she is in the round mirror of the locket—woman or half-beast; a tiny girl materialized from sunbeam and breezes. She's wiry, more hair—full and framing and wisping at the temples; tangled with leaves, grass or flower-seeds, and burrs—than body. It keeps her modest, but barely: she's quite visibly nude and pale. The canines in her smile are too sharp: the wolf that won't allow itself to be suffocated under this trick. And the wolf boasts its ears through her mop of hair. Behind her, unseen, at the end of her spine it keeps its tail. ]
Hello, [ how nice it is to speak it. ] my body is different now. It does not keep the cold out. Is there someone—
I'm curious about clothes. I'll do my best to repay any help. [ Her narrow shoulders come up, then fall, as if she isn't sure what else to say. Starting conversation isn't very easy, and she's always been more suited to listening. ] And... conversation, I think, I would like that so very much.
Days ago, the birds twittered and fussed; cawed and clamored, and she had truly promised to do all she could, but she could only find the little ones. The small feathers, and who knew if this would help? But on she collected, doing her best. Then this had happened, two days ago, a day? She can't quite recall.
She's been learning to walk again, and her thoughts fly away with her mouth. A situation both wonderful and troublesome!
But here she is in the round mirror of the locket—woman or half-beast; a tiny girl materialized from sunbeam and breezes. She's wiry, more hair—full and framing and wisping at the temples; tangled with leaves, grass or flower-seeds, and burrs—than body. It keeps her modest, but barely: she's quite visibly nude and pale. The canines in her smile are too sharp: the wolf that won't allow itself to be suffocated under this trick. And the wolf boasts its ears through her mop of hair. Behind her, unseen, at the end of her spine it keeps its tail. ]
Hello, [ how nice it is to speak it. ] my body is different now. It does not keep the cold out. Is there someone—
I'm curious about clothes. I'll do my best to repay any help. [ Her narrow shoulders come up, then fall, as if she isn't sure what else to say. Starting conversation isn't very easy, and she's always been more suited to listening. ] And... conversation, I think, I would like that so very much.
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