naturally, i'm using the prompts to summon bits of the story started here...with the vague intention of cobbling it all together eventually.
owl, bucket, letter, curtain
Pippa stifled a shriek as the silent breath of flight brushed her face.
"Sssshhhhhh!" hissed Dorrie and Tristan in unison.
"It's only an owl, Pip," whispered Dorrie more kindly, seeing the fear in her sister's eyes. It was strange to think of brash, confident Pippa as frightened. It did nothing to calm her own worries about the whole adventure. Shivering in the summer night, she pulled the edges of the drawing room curtain tightly around her.
Tristan shifted his weight against the oak tree. The handle on the bucket of pony-nuts clinked gently, although the heavy silence of the forest made it sound ten times louder.
"Sorry," he mouthed in answer to Pippa's glare, smiling beatifically.
Leaning closer to Dorrie, he whispered, "Are you sure you got this right? We've been sitting here for ages and nothing's come."
"Yes," said Dorrie firmly, "I read the letters a hundred times each. I'm certain this is the place. The letters said that she comes to this glade every solstice. It's the only time you can be sure of where she is, you see."
"And do you think she'll really fancy these?" he nodded his head toward the pony-nuts. They were Pippa's idea.
"Of course, she will. She has a pony, hasn't she?" Pippa retorted. "They're like a...a peace offering or something."
Dorrie was doubtful.
"I'm not certain she's the sort of.....well, person that would recognize..."
She broke off as Tristan grabbed her arm. She followed his gaze to the far edge of the clearing and tried to calm her rising panic at what she saw there.
"I hope this wasn't a terrible mistake," croaked Pippa, belatedly.