I can't sleep, so I'll write myself a bedtime story.
It's 2AM, and in the night, while you lay in bed, a pair of wings take flight. The wind goes by as the wings flap, a sparkle of moonlight reflecting on his cap.
The midnight soarer is a playful one, one having fun flying in the forest, the one near your home.
Now, he frolics and plays in the snow. He lets the tip of his wing touch the white of the flakes on the ground, making a mist of white as if it was sparkling water, but then he takes flight.
He flies high above the treetops, high above the city, the valley, the pity, the petty, all that land dwellers have to be had. Snowflakes swirl in the midst of the wind, created by his wings, now his snow-speckled hair twirls behind him, small, golden, strings.
Before the dawn can break he goes back to the forest. Back to the forest where he sleeps.
The snowflakes fall calm as the night carries on, and soon, you'll awake to a new dawn.
Goodnight.
YOU ARE READING
Random oneshots.
FanfictionThis is a mixed bag of oneshots. Some, mostly earlier ones, with no effort put in. They're funny. There's also some with a little more effort put in. Septiplier. Randomness. Pick your poison.
