Here's your written picturing, Poinsettia! It feels good to sit down and write something for once. I hope you like it. My pen's been out of practice for too long...

Thoughts that you can read before reading the picturing or afterwards: It's that season where the rain is falling nonstop, over here where I live. I managed to get caught in the rain without an umbrella on friday when school let off, and that was the basis for the setting. :)

The rain came early that spring, catching the girl by surprise. It arrived in lengthy streams, pattering down on the cobblestones in a faint melody, drumming the beat on the tin awnings of houses, plinking down from the leaves of the
trees. The air was not cold, but still enough to give one the shivers. It was perfumed with the earthen scent of petrichor, carried through the small town by
a gust of wind blowing down from the mountains above.

She was running as fast as one could manage in ankle boots, her wet hair trailing behind her in long strands. She was trying to take off her garnet earrings while attempting to keep the rain out of her face with a notebook- it didn’t help much, but it was enough for her to see the glistening road ahead. She charged through puddles without stopping, ignoring the damage they were doing to her shoes. It didn’t matter much. Her slim jeans were soaked already. The cloth clung to her legs and dripped water into her socks, which had long since
receded from being white, now only a faded grey.

She was running without a reason to run. Of course, she could have found an awning to shelter under, but there was something about the rain that made getting wet worthwhile. Even the scolding that she was probably going to get from
her mother when she presented herself back at home. And what would she have to say for herself?

Caught by the rain, obviously.

She smiled at the thought, wiped the rain from her eyes and continued down the street. The rain continued to fall from the clouds, melting the town and the road and the mountains into splashes of green and gray and brown. And in the middle of the saturated canvas, a splash of crimson that may or may not have been a wrap top shrank, winked, and faded into the watercolors. 

Here's yours, Celine! I tried doing things a bit diffrently here. I hope you find it interesting.

Some thoughts about the picturing: Happy year of the Dragon ;)

“You ok?” The girl asked.

“Not really. I’ll probably miss you while you’re away.” I said, pulling my coat closer. The wind on the mountaintop was bitterly cold. The girl, however, did not appear to be affected in her loose fitting crimson robe.

“We’ll keep in touch.” She promised, her yellow eyes shining with excitement. “I’ll send you an update every once in a while, a text or something. No, probably not a text, since they don’t have coverage over there last time I checked. Perhaps
letters. Yes, letters would work, even though they’re rather old-fashioned.”

“Don’t get hurt.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “You fret too much. We have lots of
experience. And anyways, I won’t be at the front because I’m still too young." She made a face. “That’s what my dad said last time it was our family’s turn to guard.”

“That was twelve years ago, wasn’t it? 2012.” I said.

“Yeah. I had a lot of fun. Making trouble.”

A beeping came from my wrist. The girl jumped at the sound. “I’d better get going now.” She took a few steps forwards into the night and turned back to face me. The moon was out, casting a pale hue on the surroundings. The silver
light gave her an ethereal appearance, as though her skin itself were glowing with a faint luminescence. The wind was still gusting around us, whipping up the wide sleeves of her robe, the dark red ribbon holding it together at the waist and billowing out her loose auburn hair. I could see her face clearly enough to know that she was smiling ear to ear. Her eyes were literally shining with light.

“Have a nice trip.” I managed to say, but my words felt lost in the coldness of the air.

“I’ll do more than that. I’ll make it unforgettable for everyone.” Was her reply. She cinched the ribbon around her waist tighter. “May fair winds and plentiful rain follow in your footsteps, and harvests blossom in your wake." She added with a wink.

The light was blinding, and the sound nearly struck me deaf, but they lasted only for an instant. I watched in awe as a trail of red fire shot up towards the skies, turned, and disappeared behind a cloud, the echo of a dragon’s roar fading among the mountains. 

I know you are busy, but your written picturings are so good I have to ask for one!

Name: Peregrine Silverwings

Pronouns: she/her/hers

Basic Personality: Focuses intensely, smiles easily, slightly sarcastic in humor.

What are you wearing?: 

Thanks for all the support everyone, I really needed that. To be truthful, I was having stressful days when I was writing these picturings, but I'm glad you all could like them. I love all of you :D

@Celine: Glad you could get the chinese zodiac implication! I actually should have proofread everything again before posting it but I was rather in a hurry yesterday and the format ended up bugged out in three places, sorry. (I copy everything from Word) I was thinking about your name for inspiration and recalled you mentioning the orgin of it, a chinese dragon named Celine. And it's the year of the dragon, so everything just came to my mind in one go. It was a bit of a wild guess to give you a traditional chinese outfit, but I figured it would go with the theme, so yeah! 

@Poinsettia: Intresting. I try to describe settings I'm not familliar with every once in a while, but I often find that the worst I do are dry scenes. It's just too wet where I live. 

@Perigrine, Hawkstar: Sure! And thanks for the compliments. 

@Everyone else: I'll try to finish one picturing every two days! Trying to set goals here...

Alright, managing to fail a goal one day after setting it was not what I expected... Sorry for the wait, Amethyst. Here's your picturing!

Thoughts on the picturing: I was in rather a poetic mood. The basis for the setting was a trek in the mountains I took during the holidays. 

The sound came before the sight. It was a chorus of merry gurgle, birdsong, and chirruping of insects all at once, an entire orchestra of melody situated in a small clearing beside a clear brook.

The girl made herself announced by the sandy crunch of her hawthorn staff on the riverbank. Her simple dress was an enclave of white in the green surroundings, filmy and slightly torn at the edges where a branch in the undergrowth had hooked it, yet she paid no heed to its state, ragged though it was. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Sweat beaded down her hair and into her eyes, a tribute to the hard trek she had taken to arrive. Despite that, her bright smile was unfaltering and her head was held up, basking in the wondrous sensual feast the forest had to offer. The strike of her staff beat out a steady rhythm against the ground, crunching along to the jovial rushing of the stream. She was singing without a care in the world, and the forest stopped to listen.

I tread along the sandy bank

Where clouds are fair white, water clear

The startled birds above go squawking

Into the leaves they disappear.

The birds, however startled at the intrusion they were, did not go squawking into the leaves. Instead they fluttered out from their perches, beady eyes shining, and landed all around and upon the girl, chirping their welcomes in exited Bird. She squealed in mock terror and badly concealed delight as a
black crow attempted to make off with the gleaming sapphire on her waist. The birds jumped at the noise; she laughed at their flummoxed expressions and, as if come to a decision, promptly sat down on the sand, producing a piece of bread from her pocket. 

The forest clearing, briefly silenced, renewed its clamor. 

Name: WiLdSoNg 

Basic personality: clever, smart, kind, athletic 

What are you wearing(optional, if blank I'll dream up your outfit based on my impression of you)?: I'd love to see what you think!

Thank you for the kind words, Amethyst! I love feedback.

Little update: The next few picturings on the list are turning out to be a bit longer than I expected (400-560 words). I'm experimenting with new ways of portraying things, including adding dialouge to capture personality...

Hello Silver! Here's your picturing, which turned out to be a bit long.

Thoughts on the picturing: Your name gives me snowy thoughts, and I was inspired. The rest is a congealment of wintery scenes that came to my mind.

It is going to snow

Clouds cover the loch

Hills and towers seem to be there, and seem
not.

-Su Tungpo

The snow had been falling for three days, and it was showing no sign of leaving anytime soon. But for now it was taking a break, hiding its face among the gray skies. The wind had paused with it, and it seemed as though all the forces of nature had vanished between the sky and earth. Everything was silent across the loch.

It must have been six in the afternoon, but it was hard to tell without the sun’s presence. A lone shadow of a boat drifted across the loch. Fog made details hard to discern from afar, but a well-defined figure stood at the prow. Her silver hair fell in shimmering waves around her face and draped down to her
shoulders, just like the white ice crystals hanging on the  leaves of the pines. It contrasted with the dark black cloak she was wearing, made of felt and heavy and warm. Her cheeks were flushed red from the cold, but she made no move to
warm herself in the cabin of the boat where a petite copper furnace sat, a dozen embers emitting enticing red light from its depths. Her back was turned, a flute of ivory held to her lips. Slender fingers danced across its length, movements unhindered by the cold. The notes sprang to life across the surface of the water, swooping and whistling around the boat in a melodious tapestry of pitches and crescendos.

A sudden, sharp cry from above, a passing stork perhaps. The music paused. The girl raised her pale eyes to the sky, to search, to look in hopes of catching a glimpse of the only other transient guest present among the dormant world of white. No, nothing but the sound of beating wings passing
above, and then silence once more. She sighed and lowered her gaze to the water. Yet the sky was no different from the water. She could tell neither apart anymore. The sky, the earth, everything her eyes encountered were all the same shade of foggy white. A spell of vertigo struck her. The boat rocked. She bent slightly to clear her mind, took a deep breath that came out as a cloud of vapor, and wisely headed back into the boat.

The pair of oars began to row, directing the boat towards a faint outline of a pavilion, where something bright glimmered. There would be friends,warmth and good tea waiting there, that was for sure.