( december 4th )

[firegap]

There is a night owl in the tree and below it, her form in the thick mists lapping upon the slopes like quieter waves, from the darkness beneath them, she emerges. As she follows the outer walls of the manor, the moonlight weaves her in and out of existence. One moment, she is a vision to behold, the next she is stepping through stone and seen first on the other side of it.

Crossing the courtyard, under an endlessly waxing, then waning celestial body, she looks threadbare by degrees. As if every great or little thing she ever passed through has kept its own piece of her.