[gge] sticks and stones and nature's own

kaimana

how beautiful the leaves grow old

"I thought hands-on participation might improve my understandin' of the ritual." You shrug good-naturedly - this had made sense to you - and try to hide the other motive: that you secretly want very much to be part of things that are being done.

Taking the smooth sticks in your hands you close your eyes, letting your magic flow out among them and coaxing them to animate. And they do: despite being dry the organic material shifts and stretches, weaving into something resembling a shallow bowl with slightly upturned edges. A basket, of sorts, Isuma-sized.

Now for the final touches.

You set the basket on the ground and look over for the patch of moss. You already brought it over here, and now you gently encourage it to creep and march across the sticks, creating a soft, insulated base.

Your work complete you lean back proudly, holding the basket up to inspect. "There! Whaddya think?" you question Loren, thrusting it forward for him to see with all the pride of an accomplished child.

how full of light and color are their last days