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Post by Isaiah on Jan 18, 2020 19:51:17 GMT -5
Winter of the Dancing Lights |
Another season come and gone. The passing of the seasons waits for no-beast. Together, let us reflect on the crinkled golden leaves that showered our Abbey, the windy walks we took among our orchards, and most of all, Sister May's excellent rhubarb pie. As we head into the darkest times of the year—and often the darkest times of mind—remember that black skies and bleak weather cannot snuff out the light of Redwall; nor can they snuff out the lights inside all of us. The snows will come and the dibbuns will play and we will laugh and my rheumatism will act up once again; the sun will rise once again. For now, let us celebrate! Let us appreciate what has passed and look ahead to see what festivities this season will bring us. *The Abbot's crinkled smile radiated out from beneath his crescent spectacles.*
You all shine bright in my eyes. Enough words—I have talked far too long for such a splendid night.
Now, we eat!
*A pregnant pause followed this declaration as the Abbot seated himself, adjusting his habit sleeves for the meal. Then, all at once, the air erupted into cheers, claps, and shouted conversation. Food began to move, exchange paws, and enter mouths.
The feast had begun, just as winter had.* |
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