A daughter of the moon, one stolen from light, the only evidence left of the crime her eyes. They refused to be coerced by the moon's silver, they shun as bright as day, the unique gem greedily stole the subtle rays from it's abductor reflecting a brilliant amber. Yes, she was the stolen daughter of the moon, and it's mother pampered her with her rays even though the greedy daughter persistently stole her mother's shine. Under the skies, she was a second moon. Her beauty enhanced and pronounced by her companion. Never had a color played such a role. It was her indeed, the Purple flowing down her skin and gently wrapping itself in her embrace defined everything she stood for. An exotic breed, a perfect combination, a beautiful addiction she's breathtaking so much so she makes silence cloud the mind. And she danced alongside the wind and it's vessels, the plants that swing in tune. Tonight, they were more cheerful, sensing the presence of a celestial being drawn to their side, dancing side by side. They were indeed more cheerful than they could ever be. The moon they could only stare longingly at, now by their side seeking their attention their aid, and so they did their best enjoying the moment while it lasted.
A dance of the moon. The moon dance. Purple had almost lost her limbs while learning that from a staff who was once a slave from the world outside. She called it the moon dance. Something about how her people believed it called onto the moon goddess. She had never heard of anything so staple so historic she had sat there silently through the long narration about the pitiful woman forced to let go of her love and live amongst the stars. She knew, she would've never made the same decisions as the woman who'd perished from longing. She would hold on tight to her lover, scream in the agony of having her power stripped and her wings torn, scream all she can, maybe deafen some ears while she was at it. And later when she was too weak, too fallen and too broken, she knew her lovers would be there to catch her falling form.
And so tonight she decided to put her practice to work. It wasn't difficult to understand what her men would find the most beautiful on her, they called her that every day. The best way to present a princess bride in the past was to send her dancing, a dance that'll entrance her groom, make him sure he'd just received a diamond and that he had to cherish it just as he would the most expensive jewel he owned. That night the bride's beauty would shine the most brilliantly. Tonight, she wanted to be the most beautiful bride. She wanted her men to treasure her as they would a precious jewel. Then, maybe she could grab their attention enough and trick them into letting their guard down and let her in.
And it would have been magnificent, the skies would've been her audience, the applause from the mingling winds and leaves. And her men would've been a bedazzled mess, craving her companionship and touch and laugh and everything hers as much as she missed them. Tonight, maybe their solid boundaries would've perished under her hard work.
However, the moon might have been conflicted with it's emotions about it's doppelganger the mixed feelings of jealousy and love, of affection and of envy, had driven her to the edge and finally it had decided to give up on her daughter, cursing her to such unfavourable end. Maybe, the land on which she danced had been too excited at her presence, or maybe the little gravel that had tripped her had been too mesmerized by her beauty to move aside when she drew near. Whichever way, before she could even grasp what was going on, she was about to tumble unto the ground, her efforts gone down the drain. Dan was going to have a fun time teasing her for this. Maybe she shouldn't have lured them out here. Maybe she should've just made a record of the memory. It would've done just fine too.
Ah there were too many maybes