Skye watches the breeze and listens to the grass.
She is everywhere at once and she can’t slow down, spinning through her days like a top constructed from crepe paper and effervescent joy.
The Master doesn’t like her.
He watches her flit about her yard from his porch, and grumbles incoherently in distaste.
Odd; if you ask Skye, she’ll tell you they’ve never met.
Whirling in circles (but never getting dizzy), she dances under the sprinkler while a band keeps time to her pirouettes in the background.
Liege jumps from his swing-set, smiling, to join his favorite playmate in her new game.
She is everywhere at once and she can’t slow down, spinning through her days like a top constructed from crepe paper and effervescent joy.
The Master doesn’t like her.
He watches her flit about her yard from his porch, and grumbles incoherently in distaste.
Odd; if you ask Skye, she’ll tell you they’ve never met.
Whirling in circles (but never getting dizzy), she dances under the sprinkler while a band keeps time to her pirouettes in the background.
Liege jumps from his swing-set, smiling, to join his favorite playmate in her new game.
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