The sun splashed warmth onto her cheek and she raised her head in wonder. It’s been overcast for days. The rain spitting intermittently through heavy banks of fog. She has been so intent on her needle work, her thread meandering upon the canvas in search of hue-filled flower beds, that she had missed the change in weather altogether.
Her lips lifted and she put the sewing down. However jolly, the pattern was no substitute for the real tapestry that unfurled under bright light outside.
She made haste. There was no way to know how long the patches of blue sky will stay unclothed by clouds.
In the stables, Sally hoofed the earthen floor and shook her head to echo her mistress’s excitement.
“I know,” Mauve tightened the saddle on the mare. “We both of us cannot wait to take a respite ride. The paths await. The sun’s still there!”
For Crispina‘s Crimson’s Creative Challenge
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