Shirahime
faile02 requested a drabble based on my "Snow Goddess" icon. The icon comes from Clamp's "Shirahime-Syo: Snow Goddess Tales" manga.
Shirahime
She waited on a rocky cliff, overlooking the snowy wilderness. Turning towards the growing storm, she pulled the folds of her creamy kimono closer around her shoulders. Her porcelain face remained expressionless. Her blood red lips pursed contemplating the clear white skies. More snow would be falling before the night was over. She could hear the ache of sadness in the air.
The wind swirled around the cliff, blowing long ebony tresses into her face. She leaned back into the wind, holding her gauzy wrap outstretched. She listened to the howls with faint pride, knowing her hounds were busy tonight. No mortal would want to be out on such a night, nor would they be. So complete was their fear of winter.
She had never understood mortals. Winter brought little peace and solitude to them, only isolation and despair. She had never intended her storms to bring such misery. She had always hoped her children would see winter as a time of renewal and sleep, so they could awaken refreshed in the spring. But in their fear, mortals turned the winter season into only a time of tragedy. The snows became her tears, a snow princess weeping for her charges.
Mortals could be so foolish in their ignorance. She did not bring the snow, only guided the storm down. Those poor fools scurried inside to avoid her wrath, little realizing they brought the snows down on themselves.
Every winter she hoped they had changed. But watching the new flakes begin to form, she knew that wish had been denied again.
So the snow fell again, filled with human pain and regret.
Shirahime
She waited on a rocky cliff, overlooking the snowy wilderness. Turning towards the growing storm, she pulled the folds of her creamy kimono closer around her shoulders. Her porcelain face remained expressionless. Her blood red lips pursed contemplating the clear white skies. More snow would be falling before the night was over. She could hear the ache of sadness in the air.
The wind swirled around the cliff, blowing long ebony tresses into her face. She leaned back into the wind, holding her gauzy wrap outstretched. She listened to the howls with faint pride, knowing her hounds were busy tonight. No mortal would want to be out on such a night, nor would they be. So complete was their fear of winter.
She had never understood mortals. Winter brought little peace and solitude to them, only isolation and despair. She had never intended her storms to bring such misery. She had always hoped her children would see winter as a time of renewal and sleep, so they could awaken refreshed in the spring. But in their fear, mortals turned the winter season into only a time of tragedy. The snows became her tears, a snow princess weeping for her charges.
Mortals could be so foolish in their ignorance. She did not bring the snow, only guided the storm down. Those poor fools scurried inside to avoid her wrath, little realizing they brought the snows down on themselves.
Every winter she hoped they had changed. But watching the new flakes begin to form, she knew that wish had been denied again.
So the snow fell again, filled with human pain and regret.