cairistiona: (Default)
https://instagram.com/p/B4SSVUxDh3I

It is COLD this morning... 29F! Boomer's little coat is a hand-me-down from our late sweet girl, Lucy, so it's a little long for him, but he still looks dapper, I think. I had bought a little Halloween collar for him, but I misplaced it, so this is the extent of his costume this year.

I hope everyone has a good Halloween!

Monday...

Oct. 31st, 2016 07:14 am
cairistiona: (Halloween)
Happy Halloween! Have a spooked!Aragorn...

 photo b63cecea-a142-41d0-a2ea-48f8fc6fd5d2_zps2nfcbwvi.jpg

And what might be spooking him...

Fog cringes in the valleys, leaving moonlit ridges to rear like bleached bones of long-slain worrums; spines without flesh, barren and dead.

A chill breeze rattles the husks of dry leaves, their sussuration an echo of the old woman's whisper as she tosses the bones. What say them? Come, young man...

Aragorn pulls his cloak tighter. She beckons him as he passes her drear cottage, the crone with her dwimmer-cast secrets. But he needs no witch to offer hope for a coin. Hope’s fire burns always within him.

He sets his jaw, and continues his lonely journey south.

(My first attempt at writing spooky atmospheric stuff, tucked in my Sons of Forgotten Kings collection over at SoA.)

Go easy on the candy, y'all!

(On second thought, screw that... eat it all!!!!)

cairistiona: (Halloween)
If you must face ghostly apparitions today, make this guy is leading the way!

 photo a0737.jpg

Happy Halloween!
cairistiona: (Hope)







Lonely Journey South
Rated G
100-word drabble by OpenOffice Writer count
Aragorn walks a lonely road. (and belongs to Professor Tolkien, alas, and not me.)

~~~

Fog cringes in the valleys, leaving moonlit ridges to rear like bleached bones of long-slain worrums; spines without flesh, barren and dead.

A chill breeze rattles the husks of dry leaves, their sussuration an echo of the old woman's whisper as she tosses the bones.
What say them? Come, young man...

Aragorn pulls his cloak tighter. She beckons him as he passes her drear cottage, the crone with her dwimmer-cast secrets. But he needs no witch to offer hope for a coin. Hope’s fire burns always within him.

He sets his jaw, and continues his lonely journey south.

~~~

Happy Halloween!
cairistiona: (Hope)







Lonely Journey South
Rated G
100-word drabble by OpenOffice Writer count
Aragorn walks a lonely road. (and belongs to Professor Tolkien, alas, and not me.)

~~~

Fog cringes in the valleys, leaving moonlit ridges to rear like bleached bones of long-slain worrums; spines without flesh, barren and dead.

A chill breeze rattles the husks of dry leaves, their sussuration an echo of the old woman's whisper as she tosses the bones.
What say them? Come, young man...

Aragorn pulls his cloak tighter. She beckons him as he passes her drear cottage, the crone with her dwimmer-cast secrets. But he needs no witch to offer hope for a coin. Hope’s fire burns always within him.

He sets his jaw, and continues his lonely journey south.

~~~

Happy Halloween!
cairistiona: (Default)
Happy Halloween!  Or Hop-tu-naa! ([livejournal.com profile] curiouswombat , I'm sure I spelled that wrong!)


Beware!! Spooky!Aragorn ahead... )
cairistiona: (Default)
Happy Halloween!  Or Hop-tu-naa! ([livejournal.com profile] curiouswombat , I'm sure I spelled that wrong!)


Beware!! Spooky!Aragorn ahead... )
cairistiona: (Default)
Happy Halloween!  Or Hop-tu-naa! ([livejournal.com profile] curiouswombat , I'm sure I spelled that wrong!)


Beware!! Spooky!Aragorn ahead... )

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