A present
Written by: Moirean Seirath 
Date: Wednesday, June 19th, 2013
Addressed to: Omei, the Artist
I have a gift for You.
Once upon a time, there was a little moth. The moth flitter-fluttered   
around on little purple wings and had a little moth mouth and little    
moth feelers and little wiggling moth legs. And eyes, oh, this little   
moth had such wonderful eyes. Flitter-flutter, fiddle-flitter, flip-flap
around the moth went, viewing the world through the lovely eyes.        
And one night, this little moth flapped-flipped along, feeling quiet    
special and wonderful. The moon shone above, round and luminous. Melodic
cries drifted with the moth's little flapping-flapping, swelling on the 
wind as the night's creatures chased about on their hunts - surely, it  
was a good night to be a little moth.                                   
And, wouldn't You know it, the little moth lost track of the            
fly-flipping, the little moth forgot, the little moth lost sight of the 
world through the sight from those special, special, wonderful eyes and 
straight up flutter-flitted into something. Something. SOMETHING.       
Oh dear, not just something.
And now a second character enters this story, for the little moth had - 
silly little moth! - flapped and flipped and flutter-flied right into a 
big, thick, tangled, horrid, twisted, snarled, glorious, lovely spider  
web. Oh dear, trapped right in the middle was the little moth - the     
little purple wings could only sticky-stumble and the little moth       
feelers were all tangled-trapped and the little moth legs could only    
wriggle-writhe.                                                         
The spider considered the little moth with large, blind spider eyes, but
this was a special spider and these eyes still SAW. The eyes SAW the    
little moth and the spider mouth began to grin in a spider way, for this
was a special spider, a strong spider, a VENGEFUL spider.               
Scritch-scratch went the spindly spider arms and now the little moth had
no more little moth feelers. Snip-snap went the slender spider arms and 
now the little moth had only rent-ruined purple wings. Slash-stab-slice 
went the scything spider arms and swing and swipe and stick and splice  
and away went the little moth legs. One. By. One. Bye-bye.              
And still, those wonderful eyes remained, through the Pain and the      
Slaughter and Reshaping, still those special moth eyes watched and      
witnessed as slowly, inexorably, bit by bit and little moth inch by     
little moth inch, Her little moth body was torn and torn and torn into  
little moth pieces. They watched as the Pain made Her wiser. They       
watched as the Pain made Her stronger. They watched as the spider taught
Her strength. Those special, wonderful eyes watched and watched and     
watched as the little moth was educated.                                
And when the moth Herself was gone and changed, learned and stronger,   
the spider began to feast.                                              
Now, wasn't that nice? Wasn't that pretty? Wasn't that inspiring?
Be seeing You.
- The General
 
Penned by my hand on the 21st of Lleian, in the year 393 MA.
