day after day wilwarin watched as her twin sons grew. dreamer's hunting kept the entire small family in good health, and she spent much of the daylight playing with galathilion or showing airasea the flowers upon the hill.
her boys were good boys.
at night she would sleep and oftentimes dream; and sometimes the dreamer would be there with her. or she would watch as her sons grew like great oak trees, to be broad-shouldered and strong. on the night previous, wilwarin had been awake for far too long as she watched the sky ignite with the most vibrant green-teal, or magenta-plum.
finally, dreamer convinced her to come to bed, where they huddled around the boys.
by midday, she was awake again and eager to see the colors again. beneath the harsh light of day there was no sign of them; only the deep blue openness of the sky; and that was when she noticed her boys were not there. a sharp sense of panic overwhelmed wilwarin then—and she danced her way through the field of flowers to where the hill crested against the clouds, and looked frantically for them.
further up the mountain—there was dreamer, and there were the boys.
the wind trembled through her as she breathed deeply, relaxing immediately.
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