- Mar 14, 2024
- 142
- 14
- 18
Celandine's mother had always been the superstitious sort. Streaks of fortune were often attributed to extraneous things, like plucks of rounded clover or whistles of stray feather. A common one that Hay liked to adhere by was to never walk under a sunbeam when the sun hit its highest peak along its slow cour along the sky. As ridiculous as it was, the littlest rules dictated her, as though they were springs and leaks beneath careful footfall. Veins of her mother had flowed into her daughter, though considerably less so with the younger molly. Celandine personally found the sunbeam superstition quite ridiculous. In fact, the golden tabby had ran through the noon's gaze many times just to disprove it. The only thing the younger molly got from that was falling as her paw got stuck in a knolled part of a loosened floorboard. (Perhaps that was the misfortune in of itself?) Surely, not every mishap nor fluke could be attributed to such a nebulous force as luck, just as not every fleck and scrape of a feline could be attributed to malice. To treat every instance and every happening as though the world liked to show itself through cryptic sign and unspoken word seemed too much for Celandine to keep up with. So, she did not.
A rainbow surely was a sign of something, though. Of luck, of new beginning, of hope... A rainstorm - though with more of the dullard temperament of a light drizzle - had passed through the moors, flitting just along the moors until it made its merry, meandering way to the mountains. With it, it brought spring's blessing to the florets and fallow, like a great homage to the greenery that had persisted beyond the winter. The girl had certainly not dealt with a rainstorm out in the open like this. At the Horseplace, she could simply wait it out underneath the warm embrance of the barn. Here, she found her brilliant coat soaked and her haunches muddied. But in the rain's posthumous wake, it left a flash of color sprawling and arching along the now-azure empyreans of the afternoon. Clear as the day before it, it shone above the camp as though some sort of bridge, strung from billowing cloud to cloud. It was as her father liked to murmur after the cloudbursts had done their destruction, "After the storm, the sun shall shine again."
"Look! Look!" She nudged the nearest cat in camp with a rather rough shoulder-brush; she had never learned not to rough-house where she had grown from. Besides, this was hardly the time to get one's feathers rustled. There was a rainbow!
( PROMPT: "Whoa! A rainbow! What’s at the end of it do you think? Write your characters thoughts." )
A rainbow surely was a sign of something, though. Of luck, of new beginning, of hope... A rainstorm - though with more of the dullard temperament of a light drizzle - had passed through the moors, flitting just along the moors until it made its merry, meandering way to the mountains. With it, it brought spring's blessing to the florets and fallow, like a great homage to the greenery that had persisted beyond the winter. The girl had certainly not dealt with a rainstorm out in the open like this. At the Horseplace, she could simply wait it out underneath the warm embrance of the barn. Here, she found her brilliant coat soaked and her haunches muddied. But in the rain's posthumous wake, it left a flash of color sprawling and arching along the now-azure empyreans of the afternoon. Clear as the day before it, it shone above the camp as though some sort of bridge, strung from billowing cloud to cloud. It was as her father liked to murmur after the cloudbursts had done their destruction, "After the storm, the sun shall shine again."
"Look! Look!" She nudged the nearest cat in camp with a rather rough shoulder-brush; she had never learned not to rough-house where she had grown from. Besides, this was hardly the time to get one's feathers rustled. There was a rainbow!
( PROMPT: "Whoa! A rainbow! What’s at the end of it do you think? Write your characters thoughts." )
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