Moonsong Glacier rule number one is that you gotta have fun

the starlet's never lived by the ocean and though the plateau is removed from the shore at times she watches the sea and feels it's reaching out to swallow her up, up, an endless-suffocating blue horizon. maybe once upon a time she would have danced with the idea of infinity but now it feels crushing to think of. infinity was her and kinkajuú's and now the beautiful angel has absconded with witchbaby's future.

ha!

that's the old witchbaby speaking, hiding in the crevasse of her heart. new wb sees the future as something else: not infinite, not ephermal, but a spark-pop day-by-day, flashes of momentous breaths between hours, something to catch and hold and not think about. and after all things are good: she's got bhediyon and she's got weetzie and the world is big. big enough for wb without kinkajuú.

her treacherous feet try to carry her back to the firefly field - no, she demands, and steers herself east, pink eyes alight at the glacier's site. oh and weetzie would kill her for trying to climb across that - but maybe, maybe. under her breath she sings, skirting the edges of the treacherously slippery surface, a blip of firehot red against the stark white snow around.