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Kin-strife for Christmas
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Little Lambs Lost

The moons more color than the sheet-pale lock-hole lass. Thrasja, shaking, reaches for her confiscated pendant. Likely already threatened their violinist must turn letter.

Ambarin brings bread, tells her: Its not cookie. Then: You live in The Bottle, with Audaliufs. Little monkey counts snowed-in boats at wharf. She stares. Ive tailed you, he admits.


Tis seeding peaches: theyd chair, rope and fork you for Adris. Tisnt about you or money or... Helpless tears begin. I could help.

One moment, shes his, til his driving if shows. She wavers; his crystal image shatters.

Self-sickened, Ambarin abandons her.


Prompts: bottle, wharf, violin, moon, monkey, fork, hole, lock, sheet, pendant, crystal, cookie, letter, money, tail, chair, bread, seed, snow, peach, rope, boat


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