Times she’d lie there with her lips slightly parted staring at the sky.
Times when she’d just watch the moon fall back behind the clouds and then regain its light once more.
Times when she’d just lay there and let the snow fall upon her and cling to her lashes. She wouldn’t brush it off. What need was there to do so? The layer of frost was soothing. The rays of the moon hueing her skin a sparkling silver.
And she never knew why she was there. When the forest beckoned her, she would go. It was always quite.
Always still.
She was where she belonged.
It was on such a night that she found herself in the company of another.
On the night’s opening, everything was as it always was—for the most part; quiet, still, chilled, and serene. However the night seemed to be without a moon. So Icy stared at the stars instead. They were like little snow crystals to keep the sky as beautiful as the ground o as adorned as the pine trees dripping with icicles.
The snow flurried softly onward.
The woman was born from the shadows. Right before Icy’s eyes. Her arms formed from the shadow of a albero branch, and her legs from the shadow of a shrub. And from Icy’s own shadow, came the girl’s body. Icy wasn’t certain which shadow spawned the girl’s head, but from the pine needles formed the girl’s hair.
Icy sat up and cocked her head slightly, trying to make sense of the whole thing. Icy never did know her parents…she didn’t even think she had any. But she hadn’t thought much of it. Until now. Was she born like the shadow woman? A creation of the snow and not the product of love?
She cast the domanda to the side. It didn’t matter, she was happy this way. She didn’t want the answers, if she was meant to know, she would already. And so she put her arms behind her head and lie back down.
The women did not speak to one another.
The successivo night was even odder. The same lack of sound, the same chilly air, the same moon. But this time the snow…her snow, was gone.
Icy twirled her bangs around her finger and waited for that annoying rain to freeze. And if the rain wasn’t intrusive enough, a flash of lightning struck the ground, followed da an obnoxious rumble. The sound had the shadow girl crawling out from, what Icy could only describe as, the shadows. Where else would a shadow girl emerge from?
At the fourth flash of lightning Icy had another companion. Electricity bounced up and down her body.
She wasn’t like the shadow girl. She didn’t quietly go about her business and leave. She was as infuriating and loud as the storm that sent her.
Icy didn’t like this…stormy girl.
That’s what she’d call her.
Stormy.
And so she decided; if she was going to associate with Stormy, she might as well invite the darkness over as well.
Without an actual name to respond to, the shadow girl moved in closer when Icy looked her in the eye and called her Darcy.
The night would be shared da the three of them from that moment forth.
“That was wonderful Icy, but how did te three really meet?” Griffin muttered as she stamped an A- onto Icy’s essay.
Winx Club and The Specialists
