lands imagined by eye and ear
The first edge of moonrise cut the coming night, spilling from the heavens some of summer’s wealth. It washed over all in pale gold and shadow.
The young woman plunged the staff of her torch into the ground, then clapped her hands twice. At that the og took off and flew a wide loop back between the other two, disrobing them on its course. Then it glided to the old, gray Liar’s Tree where it wrapped around a twisted bough.
“What trick is this?!” yelled an elderwoman, shaking her toiling stick at the sky…