꒰ ❝ woven melodies ❞ ~ a berryshine srp ✼

Instructions

❝ мц$їc ї$ ноpє їп тнє тнїcкє$т fоg ❞ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- Night was falling. The tansy coloured sun slowly fell from the sky, appearing to sink into the river. In the distance, an owl hooted its call, and crickets chirped. The sky was dark, with only a few wisps of colour left from the painted dusk. Only a few clouds remained, their underneaths painted in a rosy glow. The small warrior lay in her den, her rose-cream and scarlet fur drying off from the day’s rainstorm. With a small smile, Berryshine thought back to her rain-dance she used to do as a kit. She still did it now actually, come to think of it. The simple, but joyous tune of the melody found its way into her ears, and she hummed quietly, a purr rising in her throat. Lowering her voice, she remembered with a flash to stay quiet. She mustn’t make too much noise, or else wake someone up. The sight of the warriors sleeping peacefully made the cat yawn. As much as she’d love to rest, the warrior needed to finish her gift. With a sideways glance at the pale grey warrior snoozing soundly, a smile lit up on the cat’s face. “I wonder what she’s dreaming about…” she whispered, almost silently to herself. Remembering her task, the drowsy, but calm feline shook her head, and returned to her work. She’d collected all the materials she needed on a patrol, and had figured out a design in her head. Mind drifting back to the promise she had made earlier, Rye smiled. ‘I’ll make you a better one, I promise!’ That was probably something along the lines of what she’d said. Probably? But did she even promise at all? Or were the words merely spoken in her head? She couldn’t tell; she had been too busy watching the vivid snowy clouds tinted with a spectrum of different hues. With an exasperated shake of her head, the cat sighed at her forgetfulness, and got back to work. Even if she hadn’t promised, well, then it’d be a surprise! Purring, she studied the crown for a second, head tilted, before continuing with her task. Weaving vines, tying elegant knots - it was a difficult task for a feline, but Berr had had much practice. From her days as a shy, but happy-go-lucky kitten, she’d always woven gifts for her father. Flowers, shells, petals, leaves, she’d been shown how to craft such natural wonders. Often, her younger self would sneak out of camp, into her den, and craft gifts, presents, and accessories. Sometimes her dad kept them. Sometimes he traded them away for extra pieces of prey. Sometimes, Berrykit kept them. But always, she poured her soul into them. However, there was a slight magic to this wreath in particular. The flowers shone with hope. The gossamer strands of dreams of a beautiful fantasy. A moonglade of possibilities, shimmering in the petals that gently shifted shades in the light. A quiet, throbbing purr grew in her throat, and she quietly hummed a tune. A celestial lullaby, abloom with memories and fables alike. A bittersweet ballad of hope, through the darkest storm clouds. The tale of one’s journey through the fog. About the hope of the shimmering grove of pure light at the other end. A crazy dream - an impossible fantasy. The pure longing and hope of the song made its way into the crown - an invisible aura of the tune. Yet the valiant dreams of the song shone brightly, star-speckled, and impossibly on the garland. Berryshine purred, exhausted, yet delighted, grinning proudly at her creation, that had been touched by the stars. The melody slowly faded, as the warrior’s humming grew silent. She radiated a weary hope, a sense of impossible dreams crowning her. For Rye was a cat who believed in impossible things. Yawning, she carefully wrapped the wreath in leaves, setting it down by her nest, pushing it under the edge of the bush, remaining unseen. Casting a glance at Frolickingbird, the poet smiled to herself, with one last look at her dearest friend, before curling up, and drifting off into her own dreams - her own fantasies, her mother’s own melody singing silently in her head. ·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ ♫♪♩·.¸¸.·