As the storm brews, the suddenness only matched by its intensity, the starwhale above is obscured by the cumulation of great and destructive looking clouds. Mournfully almost it seems to call, the sound of its song now like stones plunged in a frigid lake.
From the centre of the cumulating storm an opening appears. But it isn't an opening really, it is something pushing through. The figure it small at first, a burning ball of vivid periwinkle light that shoots from the sky like a comet. Twisting and trilling it begins to fall.
From the centre of the cumulating storm an opening appears. But it isn't an opening really, it is something pushing through. The figure it small at first, a burning ball of vivid periwinkle light that shoots from the sky like a comet. Twisting and trilling it begins to fall.
