The full moon. The night is bright with light, and full of sights to see, prey to bite, slights to right, and so on. You soar on to study some sites, not everything catches your interest. Then you hear a familiar melody, and spot the glimmer of an unusual rite, perhaps performed by a sprite? You lower yourself to get closer, you get closer to see better, your lower your gaze, your guard, and glide right into the haze waiting for you.
A familiar embrace, the scent of creamy buttery vanilla, speckled lightly with the sweetness of berries, the zing of citrus and lemongrass, the warmth of a lively hearth. The feeling of being home, of being in your favorite bed, so close to yourself. Carefully cradled, gently swaddled, and gingerly placed. You almost don't hear the soft whispers in your brain. "Stay a while," they say "you can leave anytime. You can cross the muddy river, where love turns to fear. You'll find the way back, and all here will disappear (for you)"
Curious, you open your eyes... Continued in the #AltText
— h3mmy 
Link to Part 2 (Next): https://masto.thefword.club/@AltAfterDark/115663992154660763
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