Winter’s Veil

“Up a bit. Up a bit. Down a bit. Now to the right. The right. Not your right, my right! Can you make it a bit more – droopy? It’s not droopy enough. It’s taut. It looks like a tripwire. It’s supposed to be draping in a festive manner. Pull it out a bit, no, not that much-”

“F*ck this!” cursed Ashamal, tossing the bundle of stringed lights to the armchair and striding across the room to the front door, which was promptly slammed in his wake. Mirae, who was drawn to sparkle like a magpie, immediately grabbed two fistfuls of cheap decoration. Leafsong shot him a rude gesture and bent over, untangling the lanterns from the baby’s small hands. Mirae let out a petulant yowl. Leafsong – thinking quickly – swooped upon a gleaming silver Winter’s Veil bauble and handed it to the eighteen-month year old. Vain Mirae instantly fell silent, simultaneously fascinated and horrified by her distorted reflection.

“Where an’da?” asked Analith eventually, tiring of gnawing on his picture book. Leafsong resisted the urge to say something insulting. Analith, at two, was becoming increasingly sensitive to heightened emotions.

“He’s just gone to fetch more – pies.” she lied, smiling through clenched teeth. Analith fixed her with a piercing umber stare that was disconcertingly similar to his father’s hawklike gaze. “You like pies, Annie.”

Analith did indeed like pies, and the thought of eating his sixth mincemeat pie of the day distracted him sufficiently from interrogating his mother. Leafsong sighed, rubbing away some of the condensation on the lead-lined window with her sleeve. The sky was grey, and snow had been predicated by the elaborate calculations of the city horologists. Leafsong had heard the dwarves complain that they didn’t need any fancy arcane machinations to predict the snow; they could detect it by the frost forming in their whiskers. Leafsong did not like snow; she had an antipathy to being cold and to being wet (hence her weekly bath), and snow combined the two horrors. The navy rooftops of Stormwind, only a stone’s throw away from their small two-roomed cottage, were already decorated with an icy shimmer.

“Leafsong. ” Elurina ducked through the entrance of her small back-room. She was clutching a plump twin in each arm. They were both wearing new knitted costumes; Winter’s Veil gnomes, one in red and one in green, complete with felt hats. Leafsong beamed and clapped her hands in delight.

“OH! They look so sweet!”

Elurina grumbled, placing them down in the armchair. “They look ridiculous. Why are they so fat? You were never so rotund as a baby.”

Leafsong scowled at her grandmother, maternal hackles rising. “Because we didn’t ‘ave no food, that’s why. Don’t say mean things about my babies!”


1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    Aphel said,

    I feel sorry for Leafsong. Aphel tried to help, but I guess she was a bit demanding. THEIR CHILDREN ARE PERFECT. Stupid Elurina and her shitty comments.

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