Demeter brushed a lock of blonde hair from her daughter's eyes. She held her cheeks, spattered with light freckles. The girl smiled and Demeter felt spring ignite in her heart.
Demeter loved her daughter with all her heart and she could never say no to her. Today she was going to spend the day with her friends and Demeter was sad to see her go. She wished she could bring her daughter with her as she traveled, giving the people of earth food and warmth, but her daughter was entitled to a break as much as anyone.
As she gave her only child a kiss on the forehead before leaving, she felt a dreadful shadow grasp her heart. She could not explain the feeling, but she knew that, in her attempt to change future happenings, she would only cause it. She watched with a pained heart as her daughter happily skipped up to her friends and began conversing with them.
"The nymphs are good girls. They will make sure nothing devastating happens," Demeter told herself as she made her way to the next farm, "Christine will be fine."
Christine and the Nymphs giddily wasted the day away, picking flowers and having a picnic. Christine was glad to finally have some time to relax. She loved helping her mother, but being constantly on the move was tiring. They chatted about nothing and everything until their minds ran out of things to say. They eventually dissolved into a comfortable silence between friends.
Christine stretched out on her back, allowing the sun to warm her. She nibbled on a bit of bread and honey while Meg attempted to weave her a flower crown.
The young nymph was struggling to tie the stems together without them snapping. Her tan, slender fingers were pulling too sharply and the stems often snapped. She tried and tried, switching flower types in an attempt to get stronger or more flexible stems.
Finally, Christine could watch her struggle no more. She leaned out and grasped the stem of a clover. She handed it to Meg and her dainty fingers fluidly demonstrated the proper knots.
Meg grinned and carefully tried replicating the small chain. Upon her first successful attachment, Meg let out a squeal of delight. Christine smiled.
They were soon all creating small gifts for each other, woven out of flowers. Christine was by no means the most talented of the group when it came to weaving, but they soon started softly singing as they worked.
They all had beautiful voices, but Christine's shone out as the most lovely. Her voice was as lovely as she was and even the flowers seemed to sway to the tune.
The nymphs often would joke among themselves that not even rose thorns would dare prick the finger of a being capable of making such a sound. Especially one who looked as lovely as they sounded.
Authors note: I just had this idea a while ago. If you like it, just leave a review so I know if anyone wants more. It will not be anywhere near the length of my other fic right now, so don't worry.