Nighttime Reflections
Written for PicFic Tuesday on MFU Section 7
Nighttime Reflections:
It was one of those anticipatory nights-- a night in which everything feels like an idea waiting to become reality. Through the opening of his tent, Illya gazed up at the dark night sky and watched the clouds swirling bewitchingly around the shimmering moon. The wind whistled past the tent causing Illya to shiver involuntarily. It was nights like these that he could almost fancy that all of nature had come alive. It was beautiful and menacing all at once.
He curled up in his tent and listened to the sounds of nature surrounding him. In the distance, an owl gave its mournful cry. Trees rustled softly in the wind, and a low murmuring sound came from the nearby stream. Crickets chirped merrily in the background, coaxing the world to sleep with their own peculiar sort of lullaby. Sounds mixed with silence to create a strange sort of atmosphere. It was as if a spell had been laid over the earth.
Illya threw off his blankets. It was impossible to sleep. He slipped out of the tent and walked into the night. He looked up at the moon. The bright orb glowed stark against the velvet sky. Illya pulled out his communicator. Napoleon would probably kill him, but he was going to call him anyway.
“Hello?” A sleepy voice came through the communicator.
“Napoleon,”
“Illya?” The voice was wide awake in an instant. “What’s the matter? Is everything all right?”
“Don’t worry. There is nothing wrong, but have you seen the moon tonight?”
Napoleon groaned. “You woke me up at this ungodly hour to ask me THAT?”
“Yes. Really, it’s beautiful.” Illya heard Napoleon snort. “You should see it, Napoleon.”
Napoleon sighed. Illya could hear him getting out of bed and pictured him fumbling sleepily towards the window. “Okay, I see it.” Napoleon sounded unimpressed.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Illya insisted.
“You’ve gone nutty, tovarish. All that camping out in the mountains for this assignment must be messing with your head.”
Illya sighed. “Goodnight, Napoleon.”
“Goodnight, Illya.”
Illya looked back up at the moon for a moment longer before climbing back into the tent. Maybe he was going nutty because he could have sworn that as he looked at the moon, it smiled at him.