Maea
give me shelter, or show me heart
"If you make a lantern and think of a lost loved one, on the Festival of Lights you might be granted a glimpse of them again," she replied, not even raising a brow that the practice might be less than obvious. Perhaps this person was another Outlander, or just of a different culture.
Carefully selecting long and thin pieces of driftwood, they too were given holes. Once that was done, she picked up a thin thread waxed into stiffness and began to tie the wood together into a lantern base. The shells were then woven together, to make up the bottom and walls of the item. Once the base was ready, she might add more things. Dangly bits hanging from the bottom rim, to rattle and click with movement.
"What brings you out here, anyway?" She didn't sound very curious, but it was a polite thing to ask. And the person had taken a seat; though Maea couldn't figure out why.
Carefully selecting long and thin pieces of driftwood, they too were given holes. Once that was done, she picked up a thin thread waxed into stiffness and began to tie the wood together into a lantern base. The shells were then woven together, to make up the bottom and walls of the item. Once the base was ready, she might add more things. Dangly bits hanging from the bottom rim, to rattle and click with movement.
"What brings you out here, anyway?" She didn't sound very curious, but it was a polite thing to ask. And the person had taken a seat; though Maea couldn't figure out why.
watch me fall apart
and I'll be yours to keep
and I'll be yours to keep
