"For, lo! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, flowers appear on the earth... Arise, my love, my fair one..."
A fill for the breakfast challenge
(but no food! and hence maybe not very filling :) )
( ... which moves the Sun... )
Air rushes into her lungs, and with it light, vibrancy, energy.
A new world. A slow smile curves her lips, in wondering delight at its strange beauty.
She sees, too, the creatures - mild eyes and curious forms, long, stalking legs, soft, wide paws, sinuous weavings and leapings. They crowd closer to her, asking... she does not know what they ask, but she cannot doubt their trust and yearning. They wait, expectant.
Her lips part, in exhilaration and joy - laughing, speaking the first words of that new world. “So, cousins.... we'll dare it together: the adventure that shall fall to us!"
Oh boy! There has been much wrangling with machines to get this finally to the page... There's about three thousand words' worth behind the cut, in a tale of the Beruna Merchants' Guild, grappling with change.
( Merchants, in a time of change )With thanks to Cofax for the loan of the Riverwiggle, from her epic Carpetbaggers, and in faint imitation of poems like Leigh Hunt's 'The Fish, the Man and the Spirit':
( The Marshwiggle and the Riverwiggle )Double drabble, and fairly silly. 
“Mangroves! Bloody thumping mangroves!” Glumshbrum glanced across to Shdumdrob, who was gloomily picking his teeth - mangrove always got stuck in your teeth.
“They got the muddy taste, though, right?” Mulliburrim put in. “And they’re stringy! I mean, ’swhat the Autumn Feast’s about, right?”
“Who asked you, Mull-head? Shdumdrob and me’re having a private conversation.”
“Leave me out of it,” Shdumdrob growled. He reached a giant fist across the table, prodding one finger into the dish opposite. “What’ve we got for pies?”
“That prickly stuff – whossname – from that province place down south.”
“Ahrzonah,” put in Mulliburrim, hopefully. “ ’Snot so bad. I mean, looks a bit like Man, dunnit? And it’s sort of flabby, like Man.”
They stared morosely into the dish. True enough, the shapes in it had a middle trunk, like Man, and they had pale translucent limbs flopped at their sides. But…
“Man-pies my foot! It’s thumping hogsfodder! And if they haven’t skinned’em properly we’ll all be choking on them spine things.”
“Arggh! Rot it sodden!”
With one sweep of his massive forearm, Shdumdrob smashed the pie to smithereens.
Autumn Feast just wasn’t the same since the Scrubb Irregulars had swept through and declared Vegetarian Rule at Harfang.
I loved the picture -- thank you, songsmith! -- but I couldn't come up with any story I had the energy or time to write. And anyway, it's a party-game, more or less, so this is... well, what it is!
( Extract from: The Complete Narnian Gazeteer, for use in His Majesty’s realm of Narnia )