Sprinkles of Snow by Tamatoa

"Moments of wonder and joy"

From Elleth.

There is a bird making a nest of Russandol’s hair. It is a clear-voiced creature, though he knows not its color nor can identify its call. Tyelko would know, perhaps.

It has tucked itself with grass stems and twigs into the juncture of his shoulder and neck; his arm no longer has sensation to bother him, though his chin tickles at a brush of feathers every now and then.

The tiny creature brings home a mate, after a time. Russandol whistles his approval as best he can with cracked lips and ruined throat.

He listens, soon enough, for tiny cracks.