Porcupine Ridge & the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand

Part I of II. READ ONLY.  All tags just for reference, ily

From her Court and all its fair folk had the thumbelline flit;
stepping featherlight from the rapture of her realm in favor of reaching farther and further to the spires that sat vigil o'er her Vale. Ears tilt rare forth, halfsights making a reverent pass over the eminence of daunting, deathwish'd cradlethings. Concoction pinched in hareskin, hung betwixt fangs; for an hour and several had she lain here, awaiting some foretoken so that she might rouse herself from the deep press of @Melkor's mouth. The doe-skinned trees seem cold this eve  –  like elegant women working away their chemise. The heavy slumber still gums her lashes; listening for the harpstring drawl of the manticore and inkdribble quáco-croaks.

But then, lo! Before her waking, girlish eyes  –  !
There prances Sinterklaas' @Dasher through the bruises of gloaming;
mountainking marching through stout, held-fast brigade of evergreens.

She is elfin, now;
plucking at her tote and petalfooting quiet along a path that cobwebbs; hunkering and hushed, impling. She rents the seams of hareskin for the mute mud-berry paste within; smears it to the spines of frosted ferns with long laves of tongue; rubs it amongst the nakedness of trees with stained ribs. Again, again; her soul supping on the quailchirps of @Kukutux; heart atremble for the greyglint knowing of @Star.

There was much to be done before the morrow.