I made it for you, so it's yours. A gift for my host.
[A gift for his host, aka a gift from fae to fae, debt-free by technicality. In Kei and Leto's hands it's just an ornament, but in human hands it would be priceless, half-made out of impossibility. The bells are shaped like foxglove cups, looking almost like they were plucked out of a garden except for being silver, and there's no clappers even though they chime. Half the knots between the butterflies shouldn't be able to be tied without glue or sewing, celtic knots twisting in on themselves without beginning or end. And nevermind where the cord came from to start— cord spun from hair spun from illusion worn by a fox wife's son.]
no subject
I was focusing on the knots, not my face.
I made it for you, so it's yours. A gift for my host.
[A gift for his host, aka a gift from fae to fae, debt-free by technicality. In Kei and Leto's hands it's just an ornament, but in human hands it would be priceless, half-made out of impossibility. The bells are shaped like foxglove cups, looking almost like they were plucked out of a garden except for being silver, and there's no clappers even though they chime. Half the knots between the butterflies shouldn't be able to be tied without glue or sewing, celtic knots twisting in on themselves without beginning or end. And nevermind where the cord came from to start— cord spun from hair spun from illusion worn by a fox wife's son.]