
Posted by FEI on March 3, 2009, 12:57 am
98.116.126.229
The wind stirs.
Morning was breaking somewhere in the world, bright and promising and golden, but the mountains and the season have shuttered the valley in, the sky gray and heavy and low, the land lost in an unending twilight, snow violet and the forest still.
But the wind stirs.
It stirs and the birds stir with it, softly, slowly, as if awakening from a long dream. They stir and twitter and leap into life until the whole of the Range echoes with the sound of beating wings and singing voices and wheeling shadows in the slate sky, and it can mean only one thing.
Fei was home again.
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