#earthrunes

------------

In the garden, moonlight cascades down and music plays as a moth flutters happily echoiing the movements of more garish day moths (aka Butterflies)

A striped tail pops up amid the floors in a distance.

And further out still, two troubadours, unaware there is anyone in the garden, practice their trade and provide said music

Elsewhere, Emma gathers night-lilies.

"Silvia" Gideon plays and sings

The moth pauses

The skunk tail waggles

THe moth lands on a flower even as Stevie sings "Yes, Mickey?"

"How do you call your loverboy?" The tail bounces at the words..coincidentally

"Come 'mere, Loverboy!" Stevie says.. and the Moth unfurls her wings emphatically

The tail ..wanders.. as Gideon says "And if he doesn't answer?"

Another flutter "Oh Loverboy"

A hop in the flowers "And if he STILL doesn't answer?" Gideon asks

" I simply say
Baby,
Oohh baby
My sweet baby
You're the one" The Moth whirls enticingly, catching the moonlight

"Baby,
Oohh baby
My sweet baby
You're the one" And the skunk tail makes a slow beeline for her

And.. a moth and a skunk dance in the flowers and amid the mushroom

Not too far from the night-lilies, arises rather different sound and scene than the delicate music and fluttering flirts on the other side of the garden. It is not loud, but a keen gardener's ears would catch... growling, from amidst the Tiger-lilies. And, rustling as the foliage is disturbed!

One ragged ear quirks. "Bonjour?"

A small voice pipes to her ears. It is familiar, but hard to place, somewhat high-pitched. "Alas, fair tender of the greens! I have this quite hand- I SAY, THAT IS ENOUGH!" A bit of a squeak there!

Her nose wriggles and she stalks a bit forward. "Fee fie foe?"

There is a bit of a standoff amidst the greenery. The pair of Tiger-Lilies pace together, eyes intent on their quarry. A dandelion? Yes! Not the lovely green and gold ones that grow in the wild fringes of the garden, but a soft-skinned, silk-clad one with but a mane of hair - Standing at bay and armed with a sprig of rosebush, more dried rosehip than thorn, and backed into a corner amidst some garden statuary.

Did we mention, this pixie-ish figure is all of 5 inches tall?

"Oh! I am a giant!" Surprised.

At last, she can lead when she and Oswald dance!

She leans down, offering out an open palm.

A tiger lily makes a swiping grab for the diminutive leo

Wee Vince peers up at the monstrous Gardener, but the swipe which nearly catches his fine silk shirt decides him, and he scrambles onto the hand. "A Valkyrie princess, swooping from the heavens?"

"Broom Hilda, oui!"

And the flower is frustrated as it misses

"Or is that the librarian?"

"Shoo, shoo, go find a mouse to menace.."

"I dare say, if the Resident mouse were to seek sport, she could joust them to bits!" He squeaks up at her, clinging to a thumb.

"She is a roaring mouse, Reepicheep-kin. Why, once, I heard her roar so loudly that the eaves fell right off my garden shed..."

The tigerlily hisses and retreats, the possum is too huge

"And here we know that any well-meaning Gardener will never drop any eaves!" Oh ho, maybe the Lion has been reading more! The librarian might be proud if she knew.

"Only the best eves, I believe. Now, how came you to be so engorged?"

He stands, wobbling a bit to catch his balance on her palm, and straightens out his shirt, taking a moment also to try to pat his hair into place. It's a bit of a lost cause, tangled with bits of lily-pollen and leaves. "Wouldst though believe that I came across a wee cake, labeled, "Eat Me"? I knew I should stick to my diet, but it was so very tempting to experiment with new flavors. What could possibly go wrong? Oh, bother, I think this is a stain." He sighs at his shirt tails.

"Curiouser and curiouser."

"I am sure that I shall resume my stature in time, less I be forever branded as a lightweight." Indeed, now that the immediate danger of the tigerlilies is over, he nervously scans the garden. "I should not want to disappoint any who wouldst not see me so withered and pale."

"Hm. Perhaps a sun lamp could grow your flower back to height?"

"Else I might sup upon a thimble of fine whiskey and nap on a fine expanse of bosum... No, tempting as it may be, I wouldst not disappoint my fans. All grow with time, and I am sure that time shall heal." He turns up his gaze to Emma and gives her a bright smile. "What need have I for the sun, when it breaks across thy face to rival any rise in the heavens?"

She laughs. "Come on, cher, let's get you inside. Allonsy!"

He salutes up to her. "I shall not not offend thee by calling thee noble steed, though Nobility is as one Does and most steeds DO have a lovely mane of hair any might admire. Rather, I shall complement the gleam of thy coal black eyes in the dark, oh clever-tail, pearl-fanged saviour mine!"

"I could be a steed. A rare Possumare!"

"Onward, fair and flighty steed! I wouldst have spoken with thee anon in any case, as I can think of none other to advise on an idea I have for a series of herbal cordials..."

Does he weigh a bit more? Time DOES seem to be wearing off the cantrip.

"Ooo!"

And off in her workshop or wherever the steed may taken him, he will happily chat for a time until suddenly, POP, the dollish man is gone and a cheeky pooka is sitting upon her table. Hopefully, no projects are upset in the process!