The Future is Near

Ralla · 03-16-2011, 08:12 PM

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She had the very peculiar urge to do something of creative pursuit that day.

Waking up as if it were every other morning, Ralla had immediatly noticed something...not so normal, in fact. Her limbs were stiff with their disuse and her fingers twitched with the hankering for productivity. Not to say she hadn't been productive the past few days--quite the contrary, actually--but it seemed as if her spirit was merely in the mood to create something other than tinder and firewood. But she had no time to waste in the coming days on frivolty, so she very philosphically reasoned with herself that she could be both productive and creative.

Since she would likely miss the spring equinox--and hence the festivites where she would be needed for the Great Fire--she then decided to do some crafting of her own, whereas the duty would normally be left to the Gatlvskas. She took from her personal belongings some feathers--some of which were in color-coordinated piles, others of which she had in little boxes--among other odds and ends to the Town Hall where she procured more miscellaneous supplies to fuel her sudden burst of imagination. She wanted to make something; something that could be used or viewed during the spring ceremony she knew was coming, even though it would be her first spring in AniWaya. Hopefully I'll be back before all the flowers have finished blooming, she prayed. Although she had expressed to more than one tribe member that she at least wanted to see the fireflies in the summer, spring was nothing to scoff at either. It held so much spiritual meaning and power within itself--plus, she could imagine how beautiful it must be; tiny sprigs of flowers blooming forth from a land of ice, the winds shifting to warm instead of chill. And the sun; the days would be longer.

She took her crafts outside and sat near the Great Fire, hoping its closeness would further inspire more inspiration to aid in her task. She was not quite sure what she would--or could--fashion for the ceremony, and so she pondered over the feathers, beads, and wood for a while longer. It would be easier, perhaps, if there were a Gatlvska there with her, but she could not burden her tribe with her whims. She would not deny anyone who asked the chance to participate, though.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

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