It was one of those days . . .
The moon calls her awake when the nasty sun sleeps. Burrowed under a flowerbed, she claws her way out through weeds. She loves the feeling of bursting into the chill air. It's another rebirth, like the night before and the night before that.
Mother moon calls, and she answers. It's a redheaded child this time, dotted with angel's kisses and marked by green fire. Lost, of course, heeding the call of the moon before her time.
"Lost, are you?"
The sprite starts, then scowls, all teenage defiance.
"I don't have any money. Creep."
Half-covered in dirt and grinning wildly, Dru does look a little odd. A little out of place.
"Your Mummy is worried, awfully worried. Calling all sorts of flashi--"
"Shut up! Shut up!"
She obliges, of course. She's always obliging. A quick bit, a conversation interrupted, and another lost poppet, sent back on her way.
It's just another of those days.
Mother moon calls, and she answers. It's a redheaded child this time, dotted with angel's kisses and marked by green fire. Lost, of course, heeding the call of the moon before her time.
"Lost, are you?"
The sprite starts, then scowls, all teenage defiance.
"I don't have any money. Creep."
Half-covered in dirt and grinning wildly, Dru does look a little odd. A little out of place.
"Your Mummy is worried, awfully worried. Calling all sorts of flashi--"
"Shut up! Shut up!"
She obliges, of course. She's always obliging. A quick bit, a conversation interrupted, and another lost poppet, sent back on her way.
It's just another of those days.