15min fic #49
Sep. 30th, 2004 07:16 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Spring Seranade
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 49. 'Nother attempt to write dawn. Can never get that right ><
Edit~ 7 August 06 ~ Most of Raykin actually gets up before dawn. My bad.
~ ~ ~
Yamin’s eyes cracked open as the grey, predawn light filtered into her room. She had always loved dawn, and couldn’t understand why so few people rose before the sun. Especially this morning, since the first rays of gold that stretched over the plains would herald the first day of Spring.
She closed her eyes and smiled at the songs of hundreds of birds. Their delicate twitters echoed through the courtyard, bringing the morning alive in a way nothing else could. The healer could only pick out the calls of two or three species, sounding louder than all the others.
The gentle rising of birdsong, the only sound of the morning, threatened to send Yamin back to sleep, until one brave creature chirped from the sill of her northern window, snapping her eyes open. She sat slowly up in bed to marvel at the tiny bird, small enough to fit in her hand. It was the characteristic bright vermilion of most of Raykin’s bird population, the cap of its head glistening an iridescent blue-black as it hopped along the windowsill.
The bird jerked its head up and opened its tiny yellow beak, warbling a sweet tune that reminded Yamin of trickling water. Doubtless its song could be heard over much of the palace, were there anyone awake to hear it.
The healer sat up slowly in her bed, drawing her knees up to her chin to marvel at the bird. So small, such tiny vocal chords, and yet it still managed to produce a beautiful song, unique to its species. For a fleeting second, Yamin envied the bird, but the feeling passed when the bird spread its tiny, rust coloured wings and dove somewhat erratically into the milky dawn sunlight.
The birdsong this morning seemed louder, more encouraging than any other morning, as though the birds themselves could sense the approach of Spring. Yamin grinned and threw back her covers to stand at the window and welcome their serenade. The air was still crisp on her skin; it would be a while yet before mornings grew warm, but the promise was already there.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 49. 'Nother attempt to write dawn. Can never get that right ><
Edit~ 7 August 06 ~ Most of Raykin actually gets up before dawn. My bad.
Yamin’s eyes cracked open as the grey, predawn light filtered into her room. She had always loved dawn, and couldn’t understand why so few people rose before the sun. Especially this morning, since the first rays of gold that stretched over the plains would herald the first day of Spring.
She closed her eyes and smiled at the songs of hundreds of birds. Their delicate twitters echoed through the courtyard, bringing the morning alive in a way nothing else could. The healer could only pick out the calls of two or three species, sounding louder than all the others.
The gentle rising of birdsong, the only sound of the morning, threatened to send Yamin back to sleep, until one brave creature chirped from the sill of her northern window, snapping her eyes open. She sat slowly up in bed to marvel at the tiny bird, small enough to fit in her hand. It was the characteristic bright vermilion of most of Raykin’s bird population, the cap of its head glistening an iridescent blue-black as it hopped along the windowsill.
The bird jerked its head up and opened its tiny yellow beak, warbling a sweet tune that reminded Yamin of trickling water. Doubtless its song could be heard over much of the palace, were there anyone awake to hear it.
The healer sat up slowly in her bed, drawing her knees up to her chin to marvel at the bird. So small, such tiny vocal chords, and yet it still managed to produce a beautiful song, unique to its species. For a fleeting second, Yamin envied the bird, but the feeling passed when the bird spread its tiny, rust coloured wings and dove somewhat erratically into the milky dawn sunlight.
The birdsong this morning seemed louder, more encouraging than any other morning, as though the birds themselves could sense the approach of Spring. Yamin grinned and threw back her covers to stand at the window and welcome their serenade. The air was still crisp on her skin; it would be a while yet before mornings grew warm, but the promise was already there.