Ablunis Picture

My Mythology teacher made us make flower myths.

My character produced the ablunis flower. Her name was Abluna.

This be the story down there. That I had to make up for class.

She was a delicate little girl. Small. Quiet. Shy. Abluna, her name was. She was walking alone in the forest. Now, this wasn’t such a problem, since it was daytime. She merrily plucked one of every flower she found along the way.
Most flowers didn’t compare to her eyes. If nothing else of her was pretty, then her eyes were gorgeous. Sky blue doors to her soul.
Her kitten, however, didn’t like the flowers. They made him sneeze and made his eyes water and made his whiskers twitch. They were inseparable though, as the girl never let him get away. His fur matched her hair, a dark grayish black like the shadows that crawl at night.
She loved this forest. She could watch animals (though they ran away from her), she could climb trees (though they scraped her as she climbed up and down), she could pick flowers (though her mother never let her keep them in the house), and she could take a nap in the safe meadow, where the sun danced on her face, and the wind played with her hair, and the grass tickled her skin.
She was sleeping in the meadow one evening, shadows replacing the warm sunrays that skirted her cheeks, the wind growing chilly, the grass falling still. The kitten was curled up at her side, knowing well she would find him somehow if he jaunted off, and nonetheless, she fed him nice food every morning.
Normally this action wouldn’t be so horrible. She was merely resting in the refuge of the field. But tonight was the new moon, and the stars were not powerful enough to light her way home. They weren’t as bright as the moon, even just the thin claw of the crescent moon. They glittered down at her apologetically.
When she awoke, she was blind. Not even moonlight to wash the pasture; it was as if she did not exist. She sat up, picking her kitten up by his scruff and placing him in her lap, regardless of his slumber.
She began to cry. She knew the forest like the back of her hand when there was daylight. But she couldn’t see her forest. All she saw was blackblackblack, all around her, everywhere. She couldn’t even see her cat’s blue eyes, there wasn’t enough light for him to see and use to reflect off his eyes.
The kitten knew her sorrow. He, too, loved the forest, but even he needed just the faintest spark of bright to see in the dark. He jumped away unsteadily, and settled his tail around his paws in the tall grass that made him sneeze and made his eyes water and made his whiskers twitch.
I saw her. But I couldn’t help her. I do not have much strength in the time of no moon, since I am the moon. My hunting skills did not help me much in the murk. I am Artemis, and I could not help her.
The cat. The little cat began to meow loudly. It would not help them at all. But he yowled anyway. The time was nearing midnight. If it were a full moon, the moonflowers would be springing forth. But there is no moon.
The stars expressed regret again, winking and sparkling. They were meager holes of white against the blanket of the night sky. He began to ask them why, why they would leave them alone like this, or at least that’s how it sounded to me. He howled like a lonely wolf, if more high-pitched and more frustrated.
And suddenly, two stars fell in unison. They landed in the Earth. Slowly, a bud sprang to life in the night. It grew into a two pronged stem, growing a jagged leaf on either stem. And the stars appeared at the head. Starflowers. They glowed like a lantern in the grass. The heavens wished to help the small girl.
But not without a price. The cat padded towards the flower, curious, and his eyes gleamed as they found light once more.
But his eyes vanished. In their place, nothing. Hollow, sunken doorways that stole away his soul. An eyeless kitten. And as he slowly faded missing, no soul to support his empty shell of a body, his pelt was stolen away as well.
The girl cried harder, wailing to the stars that it wasn’t fair. She cuddled her dead, furless, eyeless, soulless friend beside the only flower she’d ever deemed ugly. Abluna tore the blossom from its home in the dirt and tossed it aside, the shine going out. She was a brave spirit, giving up her only way home in violent anger of the loss of a friend.
But the flower grew twofold, four glowing stars appearing from one torn away bloom in the ground. She wept as she ripped them from the pasture and threw them as far as she could, ripping petals off and leaves away.
Eventually, the meadow was entirely teeming with bright, glowing flowers made of stars. She screamed and rocked back and forth in a tight fetal position, shouting and sobbing and making incisions in her skin with her tense fingers, nails biting in and leaving half-moons. She scratched at the dirt and grass until her nails were torn and ragged and bloody, making a small hole in the ground. It wasn’t big enough for her kitten. She kicked the soil away until she could fit the feline into his grave.
I could hear her. Her screams finally made sense. She’d tried to fill up around the body, but there wasn’t enough earth. She was screaming that there’s never enough dirt to cover the ones you love.
The starflowers didn’t respond. They were growing small black mourning petals to counter out the glisten of the stars. The cat’s stolen fur. She didn’t notice, curled up on his burial place.
She wiped her running nose on her arm, leaving a disgusting, shining trail of watery snot.
The starflowers didn’t respond. They were growing again. White petals that once again, counteracted, but against the black. They were bright and pure once more.
She gave one more weak bawl, and clawed at her eyes until they were bone dry.
The starflowers didn’t respond. They were flourishing in the icy wind. Abluna didn’t want to see the flowers. She’d never seen such awful flowers. She hated those flowers.
The starflowers didn’t respond, but they took the kitten’s soul they’d taken, and split it amongst themselves. His soul was blue. His soul painted the white petals river blue. I couldn’t help her, but I could watch her.
Abluna didn’t respond.

In the curiosity of a kitten…


And the flower, thar. The flower is the next pic.
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