Traditions

The thunder rolls, wind and rain conceal the tears of a creature beyond imagination. She cries for the tree spirits which silently cry out in pain as the night fades from a dull whisper to a roaring wake. 'Dance' they say, 'Dance for us so that we might feel the freedom and pleasure of detatchment.' The young elven girl wipes the tears from her cheek and stands to deliver. 'I will do it!' she says to herself in a whisper, 'I must...' she bagan the dance of Autumn as her mother and her grandmother before her had done. As she danced, she felt the freedom of the tree spirits as the leaves began to fall around her. The sound of the swirling leaves of oranges, reds, and yellows sang in harmony to her as she Danced on... Another tradition fullfilled...