Prompt: Do this prompt step-by-step! Don't read ahead and don't worry if your answers don't seem to fit together. Think of a person you know (or of a character) 1. Describe the person's hands.
2. Describe something they are doing with their hands.
3. Use a metaphor to say something about a place.
4. Ask the person a question somehow involving #2 and #3.
5. The person gives an answer that shows they only got part of what you said.
Spend some time turning your answers into part of a poem or story.
Source: Modified from: fictionwriting. about.com
1. Long, graceful fingers with wide, open palms. Trustworthy hands. Gentle hands.
2. Dabbing gently, cleaning with care.
3. The touch of clear, rippling water.
4. How did you get into the well?
5. You'll be perfectly all right.
Azure: Part Four
Selim thought the shifting might be an animal that had fallen into the shaft. She made a motion to shake it off, but her arms would not move. It was darker than the last time she had looked at the sky, she was sure, even though she could not see much through her slitted eyes which refused to open any farther.
She could feel water trickling around her. Her first thought was that the well had collapsed - she could imagine the torture of drowning while immobile; unable to cry out or raise herself above water - but after a panicked moment she realized it was a heavy rain dripping down into the pit.
A hand passed her eye - a pale, wide hand with gently tapered fingers - an unfamiliar hand. Selim's eyes flew open and she flinched.
"Hold still, there," The voice was quietly accented - an accent that Selim did not recognize. She felt a soft brush against her brow - the touch of clear, rippling water - a feathery soft touch.
"H-how did you get into the well?"
The stranger's face came into focus as he spoke. His hair fell in dark ringlets across his strong jaw; into his large, caring eyes. Selim realized he was beautiful and no part of him more beautiful than his lips - she could not tear her gaze away from them. "You will be perfectly all right."
He obviously had not heard her, but she realized that how he got down the shaft was not the most important question she could ask him. "Who . . . are you?" she managed.
He smiled. As she looked at him Selim thought for a moment that she could see feathers in his hair. "My name is Azure."
Selim squinted. His eyes were emerald green - the green of summer leaves and undisturbed forest pools. "Azure" was the last word the came to her mind when she looked at him - he was all gold tones and greens without a hint of blue about him.
Though it was impolite and out- of-order, all Selim could say was "Why?" For some reason she could not explain, societal niceties seemed unnecessary -as though they had known each other long enough that they were obsolete.
Azure grinned, but did not respond. His mouth was mesmerizing - she had never seen lips shaped quite like his, had never seen such a sharply cut jawbone.
"You were hit pretty hard, love." He gestured to an object in the shaft - a shield. Selim thought she recognized the shield, but she could not place it. She just vaguely remembered brusque male voices, though she could not recall what they had said or how the shield had ended up in the hole.
They both looked up as they heard voices. Selim realized that the wind had also picked up. She could smell the rain like a strong voice calling over Davenwood.
"I must go," Azure leaned over Selim and brushed his lips to her cheek, running his fingers over the tingling skin. "I will see you again, love, but I will let your brothers pull you out of this hole."
He stood, towering, with dizzying speed, and Selim realized with a blush that he was uncovered except for a finely woven cloth draped over one shoulder and about his hips. It was deep green and patterned with feathers in thin gold embroidery.
As she watched he vanished and a golden hawk streamed out of the well shaft and into the cloudy sky.
Selim stared at the circle of sky, raindrops touching her face, running down like tears. Azure had to be there, she thought. There was no way a man could just disappear out of a giant hole in the ground.
She watched the clouds churn until suddenly Namen's face peeked over the shaft's edge. She barely flinched.
"Throwing you a rope," he said.
Selim's arms shook as she tied the end of the rope around herself. She almost expected to feel Azure's steady hands reach out to help her.
Davenwood was flowing with streams of water. Selim kept stumbling, the water seemed to grab at their legs - like the mud had sucked little Henry down. They did not have approval of the woods, nor the approval of the rain. They were on the King's business; they were not safe.
Selim thought that between the trees and shadows of clouds she saw flashes of gold like long feathered wings. She looked, though, for the figure of a man with gold skin and green eyes. Her eyes moved frantically through her surroundings - she thought he must be there, but she saw no glimpse of him.
Azure watched Selim's movements become disjointed. She was sick, he could tell. He called out above the trees, blessing her with strength to make it through the hostile woods to her home - though it could hardly be called that - and simultaneously cursing her family for not offering her more help. His wings twitched as he watched her fall into the mud.
His talons clenched as Selim passed the group of drunken idiots who had hit her with a clattering piece of metal. They watched her struggle with her long dress with secretive chortles.
Azure called out above the storm - he would make them pay, the selfish knights whom she so admired. He watched through a partly-covered window in her home. She was wrapped in a blanket, wracked with chills and fever. He imagined that her hands - reaching out in her delusional fever - were reaching out for him. If he had been able, in his hawk form, he would have smiled softly.