-Rora-

There was laughter and chatter in the old apple orchard. Here and there girls and boys moved about, climbing up the apple trees, carrying ladders, or just sitting in the long grass, eating apples. The air was fresh and chill, a bracing change from the atmosphere of the large farmhouse, and they were all full of energy and good spirits - not just because of the good sharp air, but because none of them could imagine anything nicer than picking apples together in an orchard, laughing and talking and looking at the softly-rising hills beyond.

There were about ten of them, all cousins, of varying ages - from Harry, who prided himself on being eighteen and was insufferably lofty as a result, to Anne, who was only just eight - and they had all been sent out by Aunt Cara to work off their energy by "doing something useful." None of them minded, not even Harry, who pretended to be much too old to want to do anything with his little cousins.

One of the most high-spirited was Rora, a girl of about eleven. She seemed to be everywhere at once, climbing a tree nimbly to pick an apple, helping Anne with her basket, or darting across the orchard to challenge Harry to climb a tree himself if he was so desperate for apples. She was small and slight, with flyng brown hair and a piquant, pointed face. she had merry hazel eyes under straight dark eyebrows, a small nose, and a spirited chin that lent a look of cheery impudence to her face. Her laugh was clear and sweet, and full of pure, undiluted happiness; everyone smiled when they heard it. Her walk was light and springy, almost like a dance, and when she ran, she seemed to fly over the ground like a swallow.

Rora paused in the middle of one of her long, swooping flights across the orchard and looked around. Overhead the sky was a blue that could only be found above this orchard, clear and pure. The tops of the trees glowed in the evening light. The taste of the sweet apple she had just eaten was still in her mouth. Crickets chirped softly in the long golden grass. The orchard was full of people. Anne sat on the stone wall, absorbed in counting her apples. Harry and his fiery younger sister, Delphine, were engaged in a friendly argument, while Eve, the cousin Rora's age, was picking apples in the highest tree of all and throwing them down to Joe, down below, who was scrambling around trying to pick them up.

Rora sucked in a deep breath of cold air and felt its power tingling through her veins. This was where she belonged - up here in an orchard with her cousins, picking apples and having so much fun that she felt as if she must express it somehow.

She dropped her basket of apples and, her arms outstretched, spun around. Anne noticed and tried to copy her, and soon they were all twirling around, their laughter echoing through the orchard and into the overarching blue sky.

-Mira- (I added Lyre in too, just mentioning her)

In the very center of the hot, sunny strawberry field stood a girl with long red hair tumbling down her back, bright eyes of a clear green color, and a large straw hat tilted at a rakish angle. She was dressed in a purple top and gray leggings, and had a quick, determined stride. Of all the figures in the field, she was the most noticeable, picking strawberries and eating them at the same time as she argued loudly with the quiet girl in the heather sweater who stood next to her. As the sun started to go down, she picked up her baskets.

"You picked a whole lot," remarked the friendly cashier when Mira came to pay.

"Yes," agreed Mira. "But you can never have too many strawberries!!!!!"

And she departed, leaving peace behind her - but the people who had remained in the field sighed. "Life might be chaotic when Mira was around, but it was always exciting.

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I think I won't be accepting any more requests for written picturings. (I'll still do your AE's, Echo, don't worry)

-Eryx-

The mountain was famous among the inhabitants of the little vilage, for no one had ever been able to climb it before. It towered over the plains and the town, silent, impassive, unchangeable. 

The mountain had a ledge overlooking the town, and on this particular morning it was just the same as always. The sky was a pure, eggshell blue, the blue of sunrise. The cool breeze swept past, rustling the leaves of the bushes. Then the breeze died down for a moment, but the rustling continued. Something was shaking the leaves, and it wasn't the wind.

The branches parted, and a powerful bay horse came onto the ledge, carrying a boy of about sixteen on his back. The boy was tall for his age, with dark hair and eyes. He rode the horse calmly, his supple body swaying slightly with the stallion's movement, but still erect and proud. His hands held the reins with the skill born of long practice, directing the horse with only the tiniest of sure movements. There was a trace of cockiness in the tilt of his head and in his smile. He and his horse had climbed the mountain no one else had ever attempted to climb, which was a great feat - and he knew it.

His horse advanced onto the ledge, and stopped at the boy's light touch on the reins. Eryx jumped off the horse with a practiced leap. The two of them stood there, surveying the scene spread out below them. The sleeping town below was just being washed over by the faint new light. Even from this great height, it was easy to see the red roofs and the golden spire of the church and the shining, winding thread, that must be the river. Eryx's eyes shone as he gazed at the scene, but his fingers were playing restlessly with the horse's reins. He had scaled the mountain, but there were still so many worlds to conquer. He turned and swung himself back into the saddle.

"Come on, boy," he whispered, and at the sound of his voice the horse leaped forward - carrying him on into a new world of adventures.

Name: Flamarestii

Pronouns: She/her

Personality: Quiet, curious, friendly, um can't think of any more personality traits ...

CBer, AE, OC, or CAPTCHA: CBer

Other: Hi :) 

Here it is!

-Flamarestii-

The lake was in the middle of the wooded parkland, framed by a wide expanse of grass and, beyond the grass, the trees. It was like a clear, crystal mirror - it reflected the fire of the autumn leaves, the haunting sight of the geese returning in the spring, and the dark sky at night. 

It was said that sometimes, in the misty dawn, or in the cool midnight, or even perhaps in the late afternoon when shadows and sunlight mixed in the waters of the lake - the Maiden of the Lake might be seen, walking slowly along the water's edge. No one knew anything about her, but there were those who had seen her, and could tell you what she looked like. She was pale but fresh-faced. Her eyes were a deep gray, mysterious yet sparkling. Her hair was kinky, cascading down her back in a red-gold stream, flaming where the sunlight was caught in it. Her features were delicate yet spirited, giving the whole face a refined and intelligent appearance. As she walked, she sometimes tipped back her head to gaze at the brilliant sky. Her walk was light and queenly. Under her dark eyelashes her eyes seemed like stars. She might vanish again, to the unknown land she came from, and leave you with a thousand questions unanswered - but it was worth it to have seen for a moment the Maiden of the Lake.

I hope you like it! Btw, everyone, I'm afraid I'm no longer accepting requests for written picturings.