(no subject)

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck does so loathe this season.

But in spite of his bitter sentiment, one must do what one can to eke some enjoyment out of the winter months. In that spirit, once the sun set and the stars came out tonight, Puck made his way out of doors for the first time in many, many weeks.

What he is doing now might be referred to as skating on the frozen lake. That is, if anyone could identify anything on his feet that resembled skates.

Or shoes.

What can be identified is a series of flickering lights, purest white, which bob about him as he goes, now at his feet and now framing his face. They might be lantern-lights, or very large fireflies.

(The smart money, of course, is that they aren't either one.)


[ooc: open 'til it scrolls, kids.]

Comments

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck laughs.

"And yet I suspect this one may prove otherwise."

[forewarned_is]

"Oh?" Curious. "Why is that?"

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck glances around, across the lake and towards the black tree line, briefly up to the stars, and down again to Kali.

"Many a thing may befall you in this place, lady," he says, "as the dear Bar, saints know, has her savors both for sweet and sour. But I have never known her yet to favor 'dull.'"

[forewarned_is]

"Really."

She begins to smile.

"I knew there was a reason I liked this place."

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck laughs, and the sound of it crackles like somebody stepping on autumn leaves.

"Mayhap it shall serve you well, in such endeavors as you choose."