howling into the wind
It is very dark. The Muse sings into the wind, night howling right through her. The words are not her own*, but they might as well be. You cannot see her face, because you know, with the instinct of prey, not to get too close. If you linger to listen, the wind will carry her words to you…
Tag Meme
The Muse, chilled by the season, curls up with warm company… scratching into a leatherbound journal with a quill pen made of an owl’s feather, while the snowkissed trees look silently on…
I have been tagged three times now, by Miss Emilly, Lord Zealot and Miss Kiralette… and so! as requested, eight (actually non-)random facts about me… (and by “me” I mean, Darkling/Róisín, as well as the writer behind… ALL of ME. This makes the exercise more meaningful to all who might read, as well as particularly difficult for me to write…)
I do hope that’s alright. If you tagged me and want to squawk over that… squawk.
