#anunrulyrose

Jacen laughs  menacingly, “You would like that wouldn’t you?” -circles the girl studying her up and down- 

His head turned towards the crashing sound and his eyes narrowed in anger. “What the hell are you doing in Pittsburgh you Narnian type rat?!" He half-spat half asked. He assumed she was from Narnia because of her clothing and how it did not look like anything Pittsburgh’s wore. 

A wisp, wishing, wilting, and wavering, wrung the moon and gradually dislodged it from the sky splattered with reds and yellows and blues and gray, gray, gray. Strips of turquoise lined the gray cloud hovering more so over the snow than under the moon. Bright, bright blue blossomed, bemused by the bewitching bounty branching off a single something slumbering soundly inside another something in the shape of a castle. Bright, bright blue bloomed, churning into two bright, bright blue orbs. Underneath them, the gray cloud quivered, jerking to and fro, from left to right, then up and down, increasing its speed till a line emerged and stretched, broadening and spreading the cloud to its breaking point. A white line erupted, emerging from the empty eternity. It was a grin. It was a Cheshire grin.

The rest of the Cat conjured itself into reality. Ears jutted from its head. Its torso, limbs, and tail filled the gaps in between the turquoise stripes. Both eyes and grin shone, greeting the morning usurping the night from the sky. The Cheshire Cat chuckled as it waved its paw at the dying moon.

“Goodbye, my dear moon. Or perhaps you would appreciate a bad-bye or a neutral-bye. Dear, dear moon, what do you prefer?” The Cat paused, allowing the moon’s answer to wiggle from transparent lips and into gray, gray, gray ears. The Cat nodded, agreeing to everything the moon said. “My, my. How absolutely splendid. ‘Good day,’ my dear moon, ‘good day.’ And there you go, leaving as soon as the sun arrives. What a shy something you are, dear moon. Good day, sun. Bad day, sun. Which is it today?”

Rolling onto its back, the Cat drifted closer to the snow-encrusted ground while the sun rose to the clouds, granting color to drench the world of winter. The world was complete again, but the Cat wasn’t. Although the Cat had its four limbs, two ears, and one mad, mad grin, its attention was somewhere else. Its tail wagging, propelling the Cheshire Cat from there to here, the Cat searched for its attention.

The single something slumbering soundly inside another something in the shape of a castle was now out on a something that looked like a horse. And, there, clinging onto the horse’s muzzle was the Cat’s attention. The Cheshire Cat drifted in front of the single something no longer slumbering soundly inside another something in the shape of a castle.