It is the spring, and the fields are cold beneath her bare feet in the early morning. She races across the expanse, feet gliding above the many-colored soft glitter of the dew. The shadows swirl around her, vague lifeless fingers from beyond this world, lightly tracing her image in the mist.
It is a long way to the river bank. At its edge, she finds that the hem of her lovely dress has been soaked. Ruined. She frowns, brushes a hand across the soft fabric. This is not what she came for. The river is so dark, so cold.
She lowers herself slowly to the grass, feeling the water soaking greedily into her skirt. She tilts her head slowly to the new dawn sky. The clouds are spare this morning, and the air is so still, too still. The trees pierce the sky with their dead driftwood branches. Fans with pink and gold.
The grass ends a few feet away, and she traces the dust with her fingers. One stone. It sits, imperturbable, near her feet. She reaches out to it. It fits in her hand well save for one sharp edge. Sighing, she tosses it into the water. The ripples spread slowly, lapping at the damp bank and making the dead leaves bob gently up and down.
The water is dark, the color of slate, but it is clear and has a surface like a shining mirror, changing like sliding silk as the ripples undulate across it. She leans over and watches her reflection wavering on the surface, a flat portrayal of dark eyes and tangles of deep ebony hair.
A shaft of light has broken through the morning mist, dancing around her and gilding her face with shimmering golden streaks that begin at her eyes and trickle slowly downward.
Should I continue? Please please review! And thank you SO MUCH for the wonderful reviews on The Only Thing He Ever Swore:) hugs to all!
etherealfire
