I've given up on making sense, but oh well. It was nice while it lasted...

~~~

Leaning against a piano is a boy. He’s dressed snappily in a black and white suit, and his blond hair is like glazed fire crowning his head. His black eyes shine out against his pale skin, holding inner inspiration, staring out into some artist’s fantasy. He’s wearing a white tie with little black music notes on it, fluttering like little doves against the glaringly blank white mindspace.

He takes a sheet of origami paper from his breast pocket, long hands like spiders bending in ways that seem to have an impossible number of joints—musician hands. He lays it against the piano, looking for a minute regretful to use the fine instrument as a desk, then fading back into oblivion.

His hands caress the page, folding it this way and that, angles building up upon angles and straight lines upon lines until they too become curves and fade into the background. The page gets smaller. Shapes begin to form, there one second and gone the next, like shadows playing, too scared to come into the light. They dance along the edges like notes on a musical staff, stems upwards and downwards interspersed with rests like cheerful letters, z’s and c’s sitting in a line, stopping and starting and continuing.

Tucks and pleats and creases, pinches and sinks and rabbit-ear folds, growing the page as it gets smaller and smaller, becoming something anew.

Then suddenly—it’s something. As if on a whim, it creates into being, those spindly musician’s hands moving as if on marionette strings.

Soft music begins to play in the background, sweet classical piano, supplementing the origami and the boy in black and white, as offset yet together as keys on a piano. 

she/her, I LOVE wolves and nature and books and writing, and I can be whatever. 

Hi Miriam, welcome to the CB. Please only put your last initial and not your last name. Thank you! - Admin

Could you do my AE, Wildfire?

Name: Wildfire

Personality: chaotic, loyal, charismatic, manipulative

Pronouns: genderfluid, she/her, he/him, and fae/faer 

The moon shines brightly over the river, shining silver ripples like an ethereal rift to a brilliant fantasy. The rapids move swiftly off into the night, waves reflecting an image of peace and serenity, only broken by the girl.

She’s standing there, at the edge of the water, hand upraised as if reaching to the water, summoning it. Her long wavy silver-blue hair shines white in the moonlight, like arctic snow and pewter coin as it reaches down past her shoulders into the beginnings of her charcoal cloak that fluctuates so like the shadows. Her eyes stare out at the moonlit scene, a turbulent gray holding cold promise of storms. She’s wearing a navy tunic trimmed with fur as white as a frosted pearl and embroidered with silver thread, fleet-footed wolves chasing each other around the hems. Around her neck is a silver chain, at the end of which is a sharp fang, bleached bone encased at the top in a golden embrace carved with a snarling wolf’s head, forever grimacing as it dangles at her throat.

Two hunting knives are strapped to her waist, and more are probably hidden in her supple leather boots that stretch nearly up to her knees. A bow and quiver full of black-fletched arrows are slung across her back. She stands ready, a huntress.

She twitches her fingers in a circular motion and soft splashes answer, the water leaping up and falling down, a constant cascading cycle of droplets, the only sound against the stillness of the moon, the river, and the girl.

~~~

Hope you like it, and sorry it took so long. I know someone irl named Miriam H (I don't think it's you, although that would be cool), and I couldn't get them out of my mind for the longest time when I tried to write this. Aaaand then you turned into Hawkgirl (the cartoon one) because of your last name. It was very very bad, I assure you. At least it turned out semi-sorta-okay-ish?

The flames of the fire crackle with heat, snapping and popping with little bursts of energy. The edges race up to the sky, stretching for the heavens they never reach, dissolving into empty air before they get close.

Foxes dance across the fire, chasing in never-ending circles, looping in and out of the flames. Bushy tails flickering at the ends into air, leaping up, cocked and proud. Sharp ears, perfect triangles, pricking up as if listening to the sounds of the fire. Gangly legs run endlessly, pawing at the heated air as if longing to touch the ground. Slim snouts with sly expressions dart through the flame gates, with black eyes of emptiness illuminating the way.

The foxes leap up, summersaulting as they hunt each other around and around the crowning flames, dwindling, becoming smaller and less powerful as the black-tipped night goes on, the waning moon diminishing in the sky.

Slowly, slowly, as savoring each moment of freedom, the fiery foxes burn down with the night.

Soon, only glowing ashes are left, the remains of the wild freedom of the crowning flames lost for one more night.

~~~

It's kind of (actually really, I'm sorry) short, but I hope you like it. I didn't use fae/faer pronouns for this, mostly because I'm not sure what Wildfire actually was in this—I wrote about multiple foxes, so fae was probably one of them, or possibly all of them/the fire itself (I kind of like that better), but it was never specified and it's kind of unclear. If you want, I could change it so that all the "they"s where I described the total foxes become "fae"s, if that's how you interpret it. Up to you.

well you must know i have blue hair and blue eyes and a black cloak named nightly and im a witch so i will say nothing