Date: 2009-08-01 01:22 am (UTC)
Off in the distance, there's a light, soft sound, not unlike a wordless song. Ahead of them, a swarm of tiny, blueish-silver motes of light rushes past them, winding its way deeper into the forest, where it whips up snow and leaves to form the glimmering shape of a human woman.

She's long-haired and gentle-featured, with what may be robes or may simply be formlessness, and possessed of a gentle, pleasant smile. In many ways, she looks more like something out of a fairytale than anything else.

She raises one hand towards them, an indication that they should come closer.
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Atton Rand

August 2012

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