Always, ha. That is a very big request. But, yes, always remove the left one before the right. The tradition was as long as the snot trails blown from Raven's considerable nostrils. Ambriana took her time undoing the laces binding old leather the color of the Trickster's inky self. The transformation was swift once the left boot was heeled off.
" Oh how lovely is the curiosity waiting for the first and then the next clue. Where is the cloth, girlie of the boot? Bring on the smell of honey bees and waxy memories, we clamber for the next bit ..." The voices of the leather-bound Lace People were somewhere between the deep low of cattle and the chortle of Ravens when playing. Not easy to imagine if the ears hearing had not known either, but, Bri was a girl familiar with both. She laughed her own deep low and chortle in response to the miniature line up of Nine Lace People. They headed straight for the tin laid in Ambriana's generous lap, and without much deliberation, there was no need for that after all. They knew just what needed doing and knew as well, there wasn't much time to dally.
Tiny calf creatures no larger than thumbs on a girl surrounded the shoe box size tin and pushed up the lid from all sides. The smell of beeswax rose like bread rising in a warm kitchen. Ahhhh ... woman and lace people were in chorus.
Ambriana smiled and continued with her part of the ritual: she started to undo the laces from the right boot while the Nine Lace People waited and inhaled, waited and inhaled. Three of the taupe shaded calves carefully laid the tin's lid onto one of the brightly patched cases covering a wall of pillows lining Ambriana's bed. They lingered only briefly, the tiny calves chatting among themselves as they took in the sight of the colorful cat eyed glass doors where plant medicine hummed with music as old as sound itself. And just what would tiny calf people talk about? Well what would you and your chums speak of if you only had the opportunity when the Black Leather Lace-ups were undone?
Ponder that for awhile.
The right boot required more attention once unlaced. There was no left boot to push on the heel, and her lace stocked foot was reserved for finer acrobatics. Bri reached down without crushing the Lace People and pulled the boot free.
"Wheww .... click, cluck, gallump ... cluck." In exactly the same number as tiny calves from the left, a flock of perfectly imperfect and irreverent miniature Ravens unfolded from the tongue of the right boot. On their foreheads between marble smooth black eyes was a red diamond ... a fine and truly red gem. It matched the smooth red diamond on the calves though on the beasties the shape was a pattern of hide .
Her work done for the time being, Ambriana stretched her feet and toes as eighteen pieces of magic went about the cleaning of boots with soft muslin saturated with beeswax.
A bit more, here.
" Oh how lovely is the curiosity waiting for the first and then the next clue. Where is the cloth, girlie of the boot? Bring on the smell of honey bees and waxy memories, we clamber for the next bit ..." The voices of the leather-bound Lace People were somewhere between the deep low of cattle and the chortle of Ravens when playing. Not easy to imagine if the ears hearing had not known either, but, Bri was a girl familiar with both. She laughed her own deep low and chortle in response to the miniature line up of Nine Lace People. They headed straight for the tin laid in Ambriana's generous lap, and without much deliberation, there was no need for that after all. They knew just what needed doing and knew as well, there wasn't much time to dally.
Tiny calf creatures no larger than thumbs on a girl surrounded the shoe box size tin and pushed up the lid from all sides. The smell of beeswax rose like bread rising in a warm kitchen. Ahhhh ... woman and lace people were in chorus.
Ambriana smiled and continued with her part of the ritual: she started to undo the laces from the right boot while the Nine Lace People waited and inhaled, waited and inhaled. Three of the taupe shaded calves carefully laid the tin's lid onto one of the brightly patched cases covering a wall of pillows lining Ambriana's bed. They lingered only briefly, the tiny calves chatting among themselves as they took in the sight of the colorful cat eyed glass doors where plant medicine hummed with music as old as sound itself. And just what would tiny calf people talk about? Well what would you and your chums speak of if you only had the opportunity when the Black Leather Lace-ups were undone?
Ponder that for awhile.
The right boot required more attention once unlaced. There was no left boot to push on the heel, and her lace stocked foot was reserved for finer acrobatics. Bri reached down without crushing the Lace People and pulled the boot free.
"Wheww .... click, cluck, gallump ... cluck." In exactly the same number as tiny calves from the left, a flock of perfectly imperfect and irreverent miniature Ravens unfolded from the tongue of the right boot. On their foreheads between marble smooth black eyes was a red diamond ... a fine and truly red gem. It matched the smooth red diamond on the calves though on the beasties the shape was a pattern of hide .
Her work done for the time being, Ambriana stretched her feet and toes as eighteen pieces of magic went about the cleaning of boots with soft muslin saturated with beeswax.
A bit more, here.
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