The Storyteller Drabble #2 - Moonrise
This is a drabble based on the Solstice story I wrote last year called The Storyteller
The Storyteller - Moonrise
She sat alone, facing east. The direction where all things begin, where the very yellow of things seemed to rise from the sun's core, tingeing the world with it's early morning gold.
She looked past the rim of light as it glowed through the trees, as it painted it's way past the still-darkened hills, and listened as the sky breathed day, and sent the fading stars to sleep.
She sought that which never heard the sky's call to rest, the very thing which never left her, not even when the daylight stripped all color from it's bones.
She watched it's slow and steady rise, it's face waxing wide and full for her, and her alone. For who else could see it's protective eye, the one whose gaze burned steady and true since the time of her birth?
She felt it's invisible rays rest gently on her skin, and, with a wave from it's eternal hand, the moon's veil fell.