Rainbow Feathers ~ Henna

I felt the wind on my feathers. The moisture in the air. I laughed. There was truly nothing better than flying. I could see the large coastal town in the distance. A PeregrinefalconFolk circled in the air. My home was a village in the trees, connected together with rope bridges. I landed at one of the tree houses. I knocked. Hera opened the door a crack.

“What’s wrong?” She opens the door. I gasp. Many feather are missing.

“I flew into a tree.”

“Are you ok?” I say slipping inside. She looks like she’s near tears.

“I’m fine. My wings aren’t broken, but there is that festival coming up.” That’s when I realize her true disappointment. We’re rather proud of our wings though careful not to be prideful. “The doctor says it’ll be a few weeks before they grow back.” I sit down and try to think of how to be my friend feel better. An idea strikes me. I am a seamstress after all.

“Meet me at my house tonight. Leave your dress to me.” After I finish her dress with an hour to spare I get started on my look. Her feathers are red, yellow and blue. Mine are green, yellow, and blue. My dress matches my blue feathers. I gab my make-up. I do face paint of a parent mid-flight on my face. Make up and face paint are sting suits of mine. It looks very lifelike. There’s a knock at my door. “Come on. Try it on.” She walks out from behind the screen.

“It’s beautiful.” The top part is black with a small amount of simple gold detailing. The skirt is tool the color of a rainbow. She put on her black ballet pointe shoes, and steps in front of the mirror.

“I look like a princess.” I takeoff my ruby necklace. I placed it around her neck.

“There now you look like a princess.”

“Come on!” She says dragging me out the door and into the air. We fly to the ground where there’s bonfires, tables of food, and people dancing. “Dance with me.” She mimics my voice singing to the music. She claims my voice is prettier than hers, but she is the prettier dancer. As graceful, as you would expect a professional ballerina and contemporary dancer to be. She spins.

“I love your dress. I want one.” Finch says.

“Thanks. Henna made it.”

“You look like a ballerina!” Sherry exclaims.

“Thank you. Henna made it.”

“You look like a princess.” Senna says.

“Thank you.” She looks at me. A parrot swoops overhead singing my the song.