The Night Traveller descended gracefully from the faraway skies. She caught the prevailing winds and headed rapidly towards the Dreaming Islands.
The islands were well-populated, happy and thriving, and right now, sleeping peacefully as the islands breathed deeply under the rose-hued moon. The buildings rose and swayed gently from side to side with every inhalation and exhalation, the imperceptible movements visible and reassuring to the Night Traveller even from out at sea.
The Night Traveller would have preferred somewhere less populated to land and help her reconnect to the firmness of the land and the earth beneath her feet. But feeling and seeing the rocks’ breathing movements always helped.
The Night Traveller landed in a moon-shadowed spot and tore off her mask and gloves to greedily inhale the deep, warm, currents of full air, even as she pressed a grateful palm onto the stone earth in greeting. So impossibly different to the thin iced wisps of high air and ungrounded memories.
With a quick look around the dark buildings to make sure she was still alone, the Night Traveller undid her hair and shook it into the wind.
Stars released from the tangled darkness and flew back up to the sky like butterflies of light.
Backstory: This is one of my microfics from a few years ago, joined with an unconnected chalk doodle, which I decided I liked and photoshopped into its nighttime vibe. It’s nice when two unconnected pieces of creativity come together.
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