May. 18th, 2013

clare_dragonfly: woman with green feathery wings, text: stories last longer: but only by becoming only stories (Angels in America: prophet)
Title: New Friends
World: Moonsisters
Word count: 7,626
Rating: G
Prompt: [community profile] rainbowfic Moonlight 3, Moonrise; Antique Brass 14, I guess we can't even pretend to be normal, huh?
Notes: I think Charlotte's got it right. (I wonder if people will be able to tell what this comment is referring to.)


Angel dreams.

Four moons on the horizon. She can only see three, but she knows there is a fourth, in that logic that explains things in dreams. They are in the same place, and they are in a line, and they are circling each other, endlessly, endlessly.

Waxing crescent. Waning crescent. Full. Dark.

The moons come toward them. Her, and the three others by her side. (They are in the same place, and they are in a line, and they are circling each other, endlessly, endlessly.) The moons descend on them. The full moon descends on Angel, rests upon her head, falls into her, filling her with silver light.
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Clare-Dragonfly

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