070. Stars

In a region where snow blankets the ground for more than half the year, the Summer Festival is one of the largest parties that the people of Tikaani have. Anna made passing references to it, but never really elaborated. I didn't press for details. It was only when my ramp dropped onto mud and slush that I remembered this part of the continent was not perpetually covered in snow. I was surprised to find The Glass Half Full already closed, and it wasn't even dinner time. I knocked on the front door. When no one answered, I trudged around to the back. Still no answer. Just as I was figuring out how best to climb to the roof, my com beeped with a message. As soon as I turned it on, Anna’s face appeared, smiling as always.

“Wow, this thing actually works. I’m impressed,” she laughed.

“Good to see you, too,” I replied. “What gives?”

“The festival! Haven’t you been listening during our pillow talk?”

I shrugged, “Well, mostly I’ve just been thinking wow.”

Though she did her best to frown, anyone could see the edges of a smile around her muzzle. “Very funny. I’ll meet you at my place. I hope you have a change of clothes; you’ll need something besides those dirty fatigues tonight.”

Couldn't hide a smirk. “If you’re looking to get into my pants, Anna, you don’t exactly need an excuse.”

Now she was blushing fiercely. “Just hurry up!"

Before I could respond, she cut the link. Whistling to myself, I pocketed my com and started walking toward the edge of town. Anna was waiting with crossed arms when I ambled up. She was still wearing her high-collared brown jacket, but it was open now, revealing a light blue tunic with a generously low-cut neck line.

“Enjoy your walk?” she asked.

“Very much. The warm weather is a nice change of pace.” I opened my arms to embrace her, but Anna simply unslung my rifle and hustled me through the door.

“We’re late enough as it is, just brush yourself off and let’s go.”


A few minutes later, she pulled her speeder up to the edge of a large clearing, and we clambered out. Though the weather had changed, we had only just left winter behind, and the sun was already setting. Lanterns had been strung up in the trees and on posts throughout the clearing. Already, dozens of people were ringing around the blaze. Gone were the cloaks and winter jackets. Most wore only a simple tunic and trousers or - in the case of several ladies - a vibrantly-colored dress. As we neared the crowd, several heads turned, smiling. Few were familiar to me, but Anna seemed to know everyone. I did notice, though, that some seemed surprised when they saw me. I couldn’t decide if it was my presence, or that I had come with Anna that surprised them. When her hand slipped into mine, any doubts I had vanished.

“Welcome friends!” boomed a voice from the center of the clearing. I looked up and spotted a Great Dane with his arms outstretched. “I’m glad to see that so many have joined us tonight. Finally, the icy grip of winter has departed our land, and ushered in the warmth and beauty of summer!” As if on cue, a gust of wind howled through the clearing, and for the first time in months, I didn’t shiver. “Let us give thanks for the return of fair weather, and ask for a bountiful harvest to come.” All around us, heads bowed. Even Anna, who I never taken to be a religious person, lowered her head as I did. “Father, we thank you for carrying us through this winter, and we ask your blessing on the coming harvest. May your land be fertile and rich, to stem our hunger, may your water be clean, to quench our thirst, and may your sunlight warm and comfort all who seek it. We ask that you bless this night, and open our ears and our hearts to the love that surrounds us. Amen.”

There came, in response, a respectful “Amen” from the crowds as our eyes turned to the Dane again.

“Now, let us lend actions to our words of thanks. Eat, drink, dance and be merry among friends!”

The Dane stepped aside, and the crowd parted at the front to allow four musicians to come forward. Two gals, a beagle and terrier, carried a flute and a fiddle while a lanky spaniel held a set of pipes and a mastiff gent brandished a large hand drum. The two gals looked at each other, and with a nod they launched into a jaunty tune. Anna turned to me, brow arched, and I bowed low at the waist.

“May I have this dance?”

Anna squeezed my hand and wrapped her other arm over my shoulder as I stood. Leaning in close, she whispered, “Of course, you silly dog.”


It’s hard to say how long we danced. The band seemed to have limitless endurance, and Anna’s smile never wavered. No matter how many times we meet each other’s gaze, I find myself drawn to her emerald eyes. It’s so easy to get lost. After who knows how long, her gaze shifted over my shoulder, and I looked as well. The crowd was down to a few couples, still swaying to the music, still just as lost in each other as we were. More importantly, Anna and I had drifted toward the edge of the clearing. Beyond the ring of lanterns, only fireflies lit the underbrush. I cast a questioning glance her way, and she tilted her head toward the forest. And so we slipped out of the firelight and into the shadows.

For a while, we managed to keep up the slow waltz along the well-worn path, but before long Anna stopped. Letting her hand slid from my shoulder to push a limb aside, she tugged my arm and led me in. While I had to keep my eyes on the ground, Anna seemed to know each rock and root that stood in her way. After a few minutes, we came to a small glen. She led me to the center and brought her hand to my shoulder again. Confusion must have been written on my face, because she raised her brow and murmured, “Look up.”

I turned my eyes skyward and couldn't suppress a gasp. Overhead, a distant galaxy glowed amidst a blanket of shimmering stars. Then, for the first time in a long time, I felt very...small. And I listened. The hum of the woods around us and our soft footfalls on the grass were the only sounds to be heard. I lowered my eyes again and found Anna still smiling at me, but I could barely hold back tears. Whether she meant to or not, she had reminded me of what was truly important in my life. Without a word, I kissed her.

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What's this?! Months of silence, and suddenly 2 submissions in a week? Nonsense!
Anyway, let's see how long this 300 prompt thing lasts. If you would like, let me know what you think!