AISHA
and now we're breeding a feeling of animosity
Aisha arrived on the scene in awe of the darkness, and of the spirits that weaved in between it's tarry tendrils. She followed the people but also those souls, and the lines of dolls that already scattered the pathway. So many people had showed, it was pretty exciting, even if they were technically her competition. It brought a festive atmosphere to the dark night, the bonfire just one of the many lights she saw in the crowd.
On her back she wore her straw pack on her back, in it the doll she'd made just yesterday with Anden. It was her mother, or at least a figure wearing her mother's dress. One of her sweetest memories of the woman, wrapped up in straw and sunny paints, creating the silken fiery dress she'd always admired. The face on the doll was a black circle of charcoal, dark but feeding the fire. She was proud of what she'd made, even if it was only a figment of recollection.
There are many friends and acquaintances here tonight, too many to speak to now. So she settles near the person she knew best, who had characteristically placed himself at the back. She nudged his arm, reaching in her pack and pulling out her own warm hued doll. She held it next to his, looking over the painted rags and feathers he'd hewn. "It's better than my targets huh," she joked, a rare humor at her own expense.
On her back she wore her straw pack on her back, in it the doll she'd made just yesterday with Anden. It was her mother, or at least a figure wearing her mother's dress. One of her sweetest memories of the woman, wrapped up in straw and sunny paints, creating the silken fiery dress she'd always admired. The face on the doll was a black circle of charcoal, dark but feeding the fire. She was proud of what she'd made, even if it was only a figment of recollection.
There are many friends and acquaintances here tonight, too many to speak to now. So she settles near the person she knew best, who had characteristically placed himself at the back. She nudged his arm, reaching in her pack and pulling out her own warm hued doll. She held it next to his, looking over the painted rags and feathers he'd hewn. "It's better than my targets huh," she joked, a rare humor at her own expense.
fear has the sharpest teeth, it eats and eats and eats
