moonflightseeker
Time seemed to stand still at that very moment. The air seemed impossibly cool around her, the crispest she had ever tasted. The stars lit up the sky and the world around around her. The crescent moon was smiling at her.
But all that paled in comparison to the beauty of the Northern Lights
It drew nearer, gaining details with every step it took closer. Fluffy red hair poked out of a hooded cloak, and the figure carried a wooden bow with her left hand. A quiver full of arrows rested at her hip. He could not make out the figure's face, but he had an ominous feeling that this person would lead to trouble.
Discovery is an amazing thing. Discovering new lands is what I want to do. Climb every mountain, see the stars, discover a whole new, bright world, away from people. Maybe go north, and see the Northern Lights.
Another flash of lightning stuck, accompanied by a blast of thunder so strong it seemed to shake the ground. Rain hammered through the tree leaves, hitting the wood like bullets.
Etiquette.
Etiquette etiquette etiquette.
Fancy tea parties with crumpets and cookies.
Old ladies in dresses.
Everyone obsesses over it.
And I most definitely despise it.
The thoughts plagued her mind endlessly, never going away no matter how hard she tried. She could just not stop thinking about it. It was always there, sitting on the back of her mind, never leaving her alone. It was driving her crazy.
Mean, meaning cruel. Or as I just used it, as in "to imply something." Can't think of a better definition. Mean mean mean. Funny sounding when you repeat it too much.
It hadn't really been what I was expecting. It wasn't fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but I liked it.
It was mine.
Her braid twisted artfully into a graceful spiral at the top of her head. It was woven with fresh flowers and ribbons. It gave her an amazing, sophisticated look that her mother had worked on for an hour.
She hated that look.