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The clouds shrouded the moon like a cheaply-made cloak; dusty streams of moonlight picked through the loose seams and into the open. The stars were indigo tonight, neither seen nor borrowed.
Gwyllim ventured out in this blanket of chilled blue, stepping faster and faster to follow his sister. She was so very fond of moonshine rippling in glassy waters. He wished silently for a way to lock the wagon she lived in. It was becoming a nasty habit of hers to slip out at night. She would drown herself one of these evenings if he didn't find a way to stop her.
He found her beside the river, slowly rocking on her heels. The water was so tranquil that he could hear the grass crumple in whispers beneath her feet. Taking hold of her elbow with a gentle hand, he pulled her down to sit. In the soft light he could see the small crystalline bubbles emerging from the corners of her mouth. When she breathed, some of them would burst, while others slid further out onto her chin.
When she fell asleep in the dewy grass, he picked her up and carried her to her wagon. The bubbles turned into a steady stream of saliva as she fell deeper into her slumber. He laid her among the uncountable cushions in the wagon, and wiped away the wet spot on his shirt as he returned to his post by the fire.
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WOAH, that took me a long time to write. And it wasn't even that noticeably about insanity. Oh well. Better luck next time. At least I've gotten back on the train. XD Enjoy!
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