“Oh! Oh oh, Amani, check it out, check it out!”
The slow dance of her paintbrush swirled to a stop, and a bemused smile flowered across the young deer’s face as she lifted her head to acknowledge the antics of her best friend, fluttering amongst the snow flurries. “Mmmm, yes Indie? What is it that you’ve gotten up to?” She spoke slowly, half her mind idly following the frozen whorls of her breath in the frosty air.
Above her flittered and fluttered a bluebird, his wings a blur against the overcast sky. He had somehow managed to loop trailing strings of fairylights around himself, such that the tiny mushrooms trailed behind him on their garland like a glowing plume. They were dim in the afternoon light, but Amani could see the effect they would have against the night sky, and smiled. Indie swooped low, chirruping merrily. “Okay okay, but imagine if I did, like, a show! Kinda like they do on the Cliffs, but, like, just me! If I fly super fast, I can do patterns, see?!” He dashed through a loop-the-loop, leaving streaks of light and color in his wake.
Amani chuckled, her laugh warm in the winter-time air. “And you’ll do this every night for the whole season, will you?”
“Oh! Oh…” Indie seemed to droop slightly in mid-air, the fairylight strings weighing him down. “I guess you’re right.” He quickly shrugged out of the garland, looping it in his claws, but then his mood brightened once again, as capricious as ever. “Hah, but I’m storing that away for later. Maybe this summer! Aerial shows, ‘Mani, over the lake, and…” Still talking to himself, he trailed off into fantasies of flying as he returned to hanging the decorations. Shaking her head good-naturedly, Amani clambered awkwardly to her hooves, stretching the soreness from her legs and taking in their progress so far.
The small grassy marketplace spread out around her, bustling and bedecked in glorious fashion for the upcoming Lumeanar holiday. A low spot between surrounding hills where several families had made their burrows had become a commons space over the years, where folks met for trade, to share a meal together, or simply for conversation. One of the hills had been hollowed out into a way-house, with open rooms and communal space kept by the locals, while ropes strung taught from a number of stout poles provided the framework for open-air tents and gathering spaces that could be quickly put up or taken down, depending on the weather. The heavy cloth and mushroom-skin canopies flapped lazily in the winter wind as residents of Luna Valley bustled to and fro.
And the whole of it had been festooned with color, the cheerful reds and greens of the winter season glowing warmly beneath garlands of berries and glowing mushrooms as the snow sprinkled down. Amani beamed, feeling pleasantly satisfied at their work thus far. The poles were wrapped in evergreen garland twinkling with lights, the ropes hanging with berries and freshly foraged boughs twisted into decorative wreaths. She had painted several festive banners, and as one of largest canopies was in need of repair she had spent the past several days throwing herself into a massive mural that sprawled across the stretched canvas. The entire thing was ready to be lifted back into place, once enough of the milling Isles folk were finished with their current tasks. One of the locals, a bright and cheerful squirrel, waved to her from where he and his pups were setting up a long table with hot food and drink for the holiday revelers.
Her first year settling into the commune of artists where she lived here in the Valley, she had decorated the open spaces nearby on a whim, and even painted a few quick murals. Word had spread, and over the following year her local renown had grown somewhat; a variety of folk had dropped by the past fall-season, inviting her to share a meal or join in festivities from the outskirts of Cove City all the way to the Meeting Waters, where the Luna River split into its east and west branches. These invitations had been peppered with compliments on her work, and unsubtle interest in whether she had ideas about holiday decorations for the year. She’d felt warm and bubbly at the praise, and gladly accepted the invitations, spending the better part of the last few weeks traipsing about the Valley, her pack laden with paints, brushes, and various crafting supplies. She found welcome wherever she went, the residents overjoyed for her assistance as the whole valley decked itself out in winter finery, and she spent her evenings sipping hot ciders and mugs of tea around hearth-fires, sketching or writing while cozily nestled in the warm conversations all around her. Indie had joined her for long stretches of it, his exuberance and energy always a joy to her.
“Indie!” She called into the breeze, and her best friend spun around and hung upside-down for a moment, chirping merrily. “I do think we’re ready!”
“Alright, ‘Mani, be ri-“ Indie was interrupted as a clatter sounded off down the lane, the sound of clomping feet running towards them.
“INDIIIIE! AMANIIII!”
A giggle bubbled up from Amani as she watched the two young tortoises nearly trip over themselves in their haste, scarves and hats tumbling free. The pair rushed up to her, tumbling into a heap which quickly clung to her forelegs in ferocious, tiny hugs. “We’re here, we’re here!” they chanted, wiggling in delight.
Laughing, Amani swept them up in a fond embrace. “Why hello there, young ones! It is a pleasure to see you, as always.” She nuzzled them briefly, as Indie swooped in to drop a recovered hat onto the smaller tortoise’s head.
“Head’s up, Cinder!” he chuckled at his joke, landing on the other child’s shell to straighten their scarf. “There you are, Soot, all settled. And where’s Glinty, you two?”
“Mama said we could come by ourselves,” asserted Soot, puffing up his chest. “She said we’re big enough! And she would be here laaaater.”
“Mama hates that name,” whispered Cinder loudly, big round eyes peering up at Indie, then narrowing in a frown. “Say sorry, ‘Dee, that’s not nice.”
Indie squawked out a laugh, cuffing the top of Cinder’s head gently with one wing. “Alright alright alright, kiddo!” He sketched a bow, suddenly solemn. “I apologize, from the bottom of my heart, for referring to your dearest Mama Glinda in that fashion.”
Amani snorted softly and smiled, her eyes gently rolling at her friend’s antics. “Well, you’re here in time to help us raise the last canopy. Would you two like to help?”
“Yes yes yes yes!” the young tortoises chanted again, leaping up together. “We’ll help, we’ll help!”
“Very well, then, go with Indie,” Amani gestured with one hoof to a corner of the huge cloth, laid out flat on the ground.
“C’mon, kiddos!” Indie swooped over like a shot, “We’ll get this corner, ‘Mani just needs to go let everyone know we’re ready.” The two tortoises stumped over to him, and Cinder picked up the rope tied to the corner of canvas in his mouth, ready to pull. Indie chuckled and bumped gently into him. “Not quite yet, Cin-cin! Anyway, how come Glinda’s coming over? Usually she stays home with a book or whatever,” he shrugged, settling his feathers, “not that I mind, ya know. But she gets grumpy in the cold!”
Cinder dropped the rope again. “I like books toooo!” he declared in a sing-song, “just like Mama!”
Soot shushed his little brother gently. “She said we’re gonna see the l.. the ligh-ting of the Cliffs!” he declared proudly, then paused, face falling into confusion. “But the cliffs is already lighted!” He lifted one foot, pointing up at the massive cliffs that stood tall above Luna Valley. Indeed, points of light stood out against the darkening grey skies; reds and oranges, greens and blues twinkling cheerfully in the oncoming twilight. Indie peered over towards Amani, now talking with an older prairedog, and chortled softly before nestling down next to the two children.
“Okay okay, looks like she wound up talking to Ashe, he’s going to keep her there for a minute so…” he turned back to Soot and Cinder. “So the birds, right, we all live up on the cliffs-“
“We know that,” declared Soot. Cinder groaned loudly.
“And you’re very smart for it!” chuckled Indie, “but as I was saying, so we all live up there, and we love the holidays.”
“Like us!!” squealed Cinder, “we love dem too! We do!”
“Just like you!” echoed Indie merrily. “So! So so so, one time, a looooooooong time ago, some birds – probably the crows – but some birds got to thinking, ‘you know, what if we made a big surprise for everyone, like a trick! We’ll make everyone think that we didn’t put out any decorations or lights or anything!’ Which is a big, big no-no, for us birds! And then at the last second, fwoooosh, they all flew up in a great flock and a’flutter and they suddenly had the biggest, brightest decorations of everyone!” Indie threw his wings out wide, and Soot and Cinder’s eyes went huge with wonder at the thought of it.
“Woooooow, like magic!” breathed Soot. Cinder nodded fiercely, chewing on one of his hat strings.
“But also, you know, we birds can get pretty competitive, sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?” murmured Amani, trotting up to the group with a twinkle in her eyes. Indie’s competitive spirit and fondness of games was famous throughout the Valley and the Cliffs. Her friend waved her off fondly.
“So the next Lumeanar, why, three more clans just had to show off how they could fly better, or faster. And the displays got bigger, and the formations got trickier, and on and on until… well, you’ll see later tonight!” Indie chuckled as Soot and Cinder gave echoing groans of impatience. “Is Ashe all set, ‘Mani?” he cocked his head at his friend, who nodded. “Alright! Let’s. Do. This!” He grabbed the waiting rope and fluttered up into the sky, along with a handful of others around the commons who followed suit. “Be right back!”
Amani smiled as she watched her friend swoop up to the nearest pole and begin to deftly thread the rope through the pulley attached to the top. A tug at her leg brought her attention back down to earth, and to Cinder’s puzzled frown. “W-why is it a no-no?” the child asked, gazing up at her.
Amani cocked her head to one side quizzically. “Mmm? Whatever do you mean, sproutling?”
“’Dee said it was a no-no,” Amani blinked back at the child, lost until Soot came to his brother’s aid.
“Indie said that birds couldn’t not have dec’rations,” he clarified and Amani gave a soft ‘aah’ of understanding. Her brow wrinkled slightly as she thought of how to explain.
“The bird clans tell many stories,” she knelt down, bringing herself closer to both children, “of mighty heroes, and monsters, and spirits of the land and mysts. And each family has a particular story that they hold most dear, and they celebrate in their homes and their lives. Some talk of Nimmireth, the Spring, or Arda, the warm Summer. Others celebrate Faelivrin, the Autumn wind, and yet others…”
“Lumeanar!” cried Indie, swirling back down to join them. “The best one!”
Amani chuckled, “The chill of Winter, which Indie and his family speak of fondly.” Rising, she tweaked his wing and he squawked in mock protest. “For the bird clans, these stories are very important, as are their traditions. To not celebrate them is to fail to honor the stories and the way they have lived for many generations.”
“Also, the rest of the birds will call you names,” chuckled Indie, and the two tortoise children nodded in understanding. “And nobody wants that.” He wound the end of the rope around Amani while he spoke, tying a quick harness. “Comfy, ‘Mani?” At her nod, Indie deftly added a few loops for Soot and Cinder to grab onto. “Alright, all set and ready!” He flew up a few feet, chirruping loudly across the commons to where Ashe stood. He waved in reply, raising his voice.
“Alright, you lot! Get yourselves sorted, and we pull on three!” Soot and Cinder leapt up, taking the loops Indie had made for them in their jaws, and Amani carefully trotted back to pull the rope taut. Indie took up station on the top of Amani’s head, chirping away merrily. Ashe waited a few moments more before raising one hand high. “And one! Two! Three!”
Amani dug in her hooves, muscles straining against her share of the weight as the Valley residents all pulled together. Soot and Cinder gave tiny, dramatic grunts of effort, feet scrabbling until they were basically hanging from the rope themselves. Indie laughed uproariously as the canopy drifted upward, lines pulling taut. He darted forward, securing a secondary rope to the post while Amani held their corner aloft. The tortoise children dropped to the ground with soft thuds as they gave twin gasps of wonder as the cloth stretched above them, nearly glowing in the myriad lights cast by the decorations. An enormous winter wreath of woven of berried branches and brightly colored mushrooms encircled a cozy scene of hearthfires and steaming mugs of tea, Amani’s graceful brushstrokes capturing the warmth and joy of the winter season thrown against the cool gleam of the night sky. The rest of the crowded Valley folk murmured their appreciation as well, and a few cheers rang out. “Huzzah!” crowed Indie, joining in. “Lumeanar’s breath, but it’s gorgeous, ‘Mani!”
“Aye, but she can’t help that,” chuckled a larger tortoise, stumping up to join them with a small wagon in tow. “what with how she puts her heart into all of her work!”
“Mama!!”
The older tortoise chuckled as her children crashed into her, gathering them close and retrieving Cinder’s hat to return it to his head. “C’mere, ya mischief-makers! Been getting in the way over here, eh?”
“Noooooo,” exclaimed Soot, “We helped, Mama, we helped!” Cinder nodded enthusiastically, his hat falling off once again.
Indie fluttered down, tossing the hat up to Soot, who plonked it onto his brother’s head so hastily that Cinder fell over, the hat completely covering his eyes, “Glinda, you made it, good to see you!”
“Hey!” squeaked Cinder, righting himself and his hat. Glinda swiftly pulled him close, settling the two before any hard feelings were felt.
“Well good, yah sprouts. And why do we help out, eh?”
“To help the community!” the two chorused in unison, chests puffing out. Glinda’s smile crinkled her eyes, and she turned to Amani.
“These old eyes aren’t what they used to be… and they weren’t much to start with, eh-heh! C’mon and tell me about it,” she gestured with her head towards the canopy mural, “while we secure some victuals for the starving hordes?”
Amani laughed in agreement and glanced at Indie. “Go and get us a spot, Indie dear?” He sketched another bow, grinned, and shot off into the deepening twilight in a swirl of snowflakes. Amani and Glinda, her children tumbling around her feet, made their way over to the communal food table, and soon enough the whole group of them were rejoined, wrapped in warm blankets with steaming mugs of cocoa and tea, settled atop the way-house hill as the first stars began to twinkle through the scattering clouds. Amani blew gently across the top of her mug, while Glinda fussed over her two children, busying themselves with a bowl of shelled nuts.
“Look, here we go, here we go!” exclaimed Indie, his voice aquiver with excitement. Soot and Cinder struggled upright, nuts forgotten in an instant. Amani drew her eyes away from chasing whorls of steam among the stars, and even Glinda perked up in anticipation. Away and above them, a brilliant white light shot skyward over the Selene Cliffs, higher and higher until it seemed to explode in a great flowering of sparks that drifted down like luminescent petals. Soot and Cinder’s jaws dropped open as the display erupted above them, and Indie nestled down onto Amani’s head.
“Merry Lumeanar, ‘Mani,” he murmured softly, and she smiled warmly, unseen.
“Merry Lumeanar, Indie dear.”