Arrow Lake i want a boy who’s so drunk he doesn’t talk

The man followed her prompts and turned his attention to address the sky, swathes of crushed, black velvet and stars that looked as if fireflies had been frozen in time — Olive felt as though she could reach up and pick them right out of the night sky, but knew she would never, ever get the chance. Anything she knew about the astronomy and astrology was purely speculation; nothing more than intuition. 

“Her,” she corrected, throwing the stranger a spirited, sidelong glance and crooking her brow suggestively. Most creatures did not give inanimate objects genders, but the moon was distinctly feminine in her receptivity and supportive nature — just as the sun was masculine in his power and strength and fortitude. It was intuition, yes, but it was indisputable!

The shrouded sylph tittered at his assertion, for it was such a silly thing! Her gaze glimmered in the starlight and Olive found she could not pull herself away from the swirling starry night, not even to answer the man’s question. “She has not been eaten, she is in hiding.” Olive pointed out, her voice light and dancing upon every word.  “not even the gods wish to be seen 100% of the time.” and if the gods did it, then that surely means it was okay for them mortals to do it, too! There was so shame in needing seclusion — for, from seclusion, there was rebirth.

“In two weeks, the moon will sit full in the night sky — oh, that is the witching hour! Then, in two more weeks, the moon will disappear again.” Finally, the woman turned to look at the star-dappled stranger, wondering what his take on all this information would be. Perhaps he had already known, and was testing her! “It’s the most reliable system in the world,” Olive said with a sigh, letting her voice trail off with her next, solemn statement. “Sometimes, it's the only thing you can rely on…”