Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Rise of the Guardians. I just like to play around with it.
The city of Seoul was sleeping…or rather, sleeping as much as it could, considering it's rather bustling nightlife. It wasn't quite as bad as some other metropolises, Sandy thought, like New York City or Beijing, but the hubbub and glaring lights could prove rather distracting sometimes. He was always up for the challenge, though, and while he was loath to admit it, even to his fellow Guardians, he did occasionally indulge himself by observing unsuspecting adults as they went about their lives. He wasn't overly sentimental like Tooth Fairy or North were; Sandy just liked to see what his former wards were up to sometimes.
Tonight, however, he was too busy for that. Sitting atop his cloud of golden sand, he waved and twirled his hands in simple yet elegant patterns, shaping sweet dreams for the many, many children asleep in their beds. He smiled blissfully as he sent a steam engine on its way, soon followed by beautiful mermaids playing in the sea, a trip to the zoo, a pair of dinosaurs, and more than a few butterflies. No matter how mundane some other spirits considered his work, Sandy loved and treasured every single dream he shaped as a work of art. It wasn't that he was self-absorbed or considered his dream weaving more important than any other spirit's task, he simply understood how each image bore a specific significance to the dreamer and knew that even the simplest of imaginings could prove inspiring given the right circumstances.
A surge of magic close at hand startled Sandy, momentarily breaking his concentration. The power was both foreign to him and oddly familiar. Yet, having been regaled with stories from the other Guardians, Sandy quickly deduced who had come to visit him and relaxed. He turned his head to smile over his shoulder, and received a warm smile in return.
With a nod and a wink, Sandy returned to his work. He was just sending a sailboat off into the stars when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. It was Layla, seating herself in front of him on the edge of the cloud. Leaning back a little to rest comfortably on her hands, little legs dangled freely out into space, as if the immense height at which they were currently hovering did not phase her one bit. Her feet swung back and forth, back and forth in a loose rhythm, the hem of her dark purple dress rustling softly in the night breeze. From this position, Sandy could see her clearly without being distracted and she, in turn, could watch him work without being in the way.
And when she finally departed some hours later, both spirits were still smiling happily, for they'd reached an understanding without having to utter a single word.