Working Thanksgivng in Darkness choked the magicked forest; a light kindled here and there to trick to travelers but not the patrolling Rangers whose sight ignored the forest’s enchanted feelers. Sarn shoved away an inquisitive branch, looked about for evidence of distress. Another boring watch with not a branch out of place and still more hours in this press. “Why’re we out here? There’s nothing happening,” he complained batting a thin bough aside. “You want to hear Thanksgiving’s beginning?” Nolo asked; he sped up to walk beside making conversation possible ‘gain. The trees leaned to listen to talk of men. ~ ~ ~ Sarn nodded, stepped o’er a recoiling … Continue reading Working Thanksgiving in

Pie Making Inari surveyed her kitchen  and smiled. Lumir glowed red in its grate for baking, stone counters gleamed and a four year old child sat in silence arranging rocks, making patterns on the stone floor. Miren had gone to school, so also had her son Nerule. Nolo and Sarn both worked nights; sleep had drawn them in that morn. Waking Sarn would be cruel, so off to market she went, a withdrawn child in tow. Quiet he stayed, no ‘whys’trailed her through the aisles, his curiosity blunted but by what? That morn Sarn had sailed in, spent time with Ran in amity, before she’d chased him to bed; … Continue reading Pour Some Sugar on my Pie