blink off and on within the deepest shadow of the forest. Beautiful. There was a rainbow of colors in those brief and brilliant lights. A symphonic method to the madness, like a very quiet, but well thought out fireworks display. It was the most wonderful thing. It was a serenade of sorts for harassed nerves. It made her forget. The lights drifted closer, retaining their glow for longer, then winking out. She smiled to see it. At the size of the fireflies. One flared right beside her and she gasped, momentarily blinded. Then her eyes adjusted and she found herself staring bemusedly into the glow. The firefly waved at her. Only it was not a firefly. It was a miniature, sexless child, all smooth and limber and orange skinned. Its limbs were the thickness of toothpicks, its head the size of a pea. It was beautiful. It winked out suddenly and she almost cried in dismay, but another appeared over her head to the right, then another in front of her. They all smiled at her, waving gentle arms. She relaxed, returning the smile. She glanced back once to see if Bashru or Zakknr were as delighted with the sprites as she was, but their expressions were closed and brooding. Not even a flicker of attention to the hovering auroras.
There was a snap and rustle of something heavy moving through the forest.
The ogre growled and ordered the spriggan to see what it was. Bashru complained and grouched, but under threat of bodily harm veered his horse off the path to investigate. She rode on with the ogre. The lights were more intense. She blinked at how many and how bright they were. How could Zakknr not be awed by them? When she turned to ask, he was swatting at something that buzzed incessantly around his face. Not one of the tiny sprites. He was paying her very little heed. The lights were moving away from her, into the wood at the right side of the path. She frowned, sad at the departure. A dozen tiny arms beckoned her to follow if she wished. It seemed the natural thing to do. To urge her mount off the path, after the glowing lights. Zakknr did not notice at all, so consumed with swatting the flying pests that plagued him was he. And soon the enfolding arms of the forest cut him off from sight of her.
A path that was no game trail opened before her. It was as if trees had grown to one side and limbs and vines had allowed for her passage. The leaves and the branches were whispers on her skin.
Caresses. Imperceptibly they closed behind her. She breathed in air laden with forest scents, pollen and dew. It was cool, a blessing that made her lids heavy. She drowsed.
The strains of music awakened her. It was faint, and almost familiar. Lilting and exotic and melding so smoothly with the sounds of the wood as to be part of it. She blinked in wonderment, found herself softly humming along. So sweet it was. So heavenly in its purity. The lights were coalesced before her, swarming behind the veil of foliage. The music came from there. Strings that could have been reeds, and voices that might belong to angles themselves. No words. Just a melodic humming that surpassed all lyrical calling.
The horse stopped, uncertain, its ears twitching nervously. She climbed down, sat Phoebe on the ground to fend for herself and walked towards the curtain of leaves and ferns that hid the forest orchestra.
Her mind had no description for what she saw, but it embraced it all the same.
Creatures cavorted in a clearing.
Creatures of varying size, from the tiny sprites to slender limbed beings that stood her own height. They were lovely beyond description. Naked and almost androgynous in sex. Almost. They danced in a spinning, gyrating circle, singing, touching as they passed, laughing in high humor. Wild spirits, she thought, staring wide-eyed. Beautiful wild spirits, whose voices were like honey and whose movements like water over silken rocks.
They were pale as night, as a whole, with hair that flowed and tossed about their shoulders and backs. Their eyes were
There was a snap and rustle of something heavy moving through the forest.
The ogre growled and ordered the spriggan to see what it was. Bashru complained and grouched, but under threat of bodily harm veered his horse off the path to investigate. She rode on with the ogre. The lights were more intense. She blinked at how many and how bright they were. How could Zakknr not be awed by them? When she turned to ask, he was swatting at something that buzzed incessantly around his face. Not one of the tiny sprites. He was paying her very little heed. The lights were moving away from her, into the wood at the right side of the path. She frowned, sad at the departure. A dozen tiny arms beckoned her to follow if she wished. It seemed the natural thing to do. To urge her mount off the path, after the glowing lights. Zakknr did not notice at all, so consumed with swatting the flying pests that plagued him was he. And soon the enfolding arms of the forest cut him off from sight of her.
A path that was no game trail opened before her. It was as if trees had grown to one side and limbs and vines had allowed for her passage. The leaves and the branches were whispers on her skin.
Caresses. Imperceptibly they closed behind her. She breathed in air laden with forest scents, pollen and dew. It was cool, a blessing that made her lids heavy. She drowsed.
The strains of music awakened her. It was faint, and almost familiar. Lilting and exotic and melding so smoothly with the sounds of the wood as to be part of it. She blinked in wonderment, found herself softly humming along. So sweet it was. So heavenly in its purity. The lights were coalesced before her, swarming behind the veil of foliage. The music came from there. Strings that could have been reeds, and voices that might belong to angles themselves. No words. Just a melodic humming that surpassed all lyrical calling.
The horse stopped, uncertain, its ears twitching nervously. She climbed down, sat Phoebe on the ground to fend for herself and walked towards the curtain of leaves and ferns that hid the forest orchestra.
Her mind had no description for what she saw, but it embraced it all the same.
Creatures cavorted in a clearing.
Creatures of varying size, from the tiny sprites to slender limbed beings that stood her own height. They were lovely beyond description. Naked and almost androgynous in sex. Almost. They danced in a spinning, gyrating circle, singing, touching as they passed, laughing in high humor. Wild spirits, she thought, staring wide-eyed. Beautiful wild spirits, whose voices were like honey and whose movements like water over silken rocks.
They were pale as night, as a whole, with hair that flowed and tossed about their shoulders and backs. Their eyes were
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