About: Fallen Brides Story: Wilmarina, "One Who Seeks the Fallen Sword"   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

—It was a beautiful flower garden, its surface entirely covered in white. A world blanketed in pure white Dutch clover. I was sitting in the center of a beautiful flower garden untainted by any impurity. My gaze was turned to the bunch of clover I had plucked, and I was moving my small fingers with all my might. But they simply refused to move as I wished. They made loops of the unyielding stems and passed them through those, but they would not do so smoothly. —Humph... "Done!" "Ooh..." —It was a beautifully woven crown of flowers.

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rdfs:label
  • Fallen Brides Story: Wilmarina, "One Who Seeks the Fallen Sword"
rdfs:comment
  • —It was a beautiful flower garden, its surface entirely covered in white. A world blanketed in pure white Dutch clover. I was sitting in the center of a beautiful flower garden untainted by any impurity. My gaze was turned to the bunch of clover I had plucked, and I was moving my small fingers with all my might. But they simply refused to move as I wished. They made loops of the unyielding stems and passed them through those, but they would not do so smoothly. —Humph... "Done!" "Ooh..." —It was a beautifully woven crown of flowers.
dcterms:subject
abstract
  • —It was a beautiful flower garden, its surface entirely covered in white. A world blanketed in pure white Dutch clover. I was sitting in the center of a beautiful flower garden untainted by any impurity. My gaze was turned to the bunch of clover I had plucked, and I was moving my small fingers with all my might. But they simply refused to move as I wished. They made loops of the unyielding stems and passed them through those, but they would not do so smoothly. —Humph... As my cheeks swelled with irritation, I quietly turned my eyes to the side. A boy of about my own age was sitting there. His flaming red hair was cropped short, and his fingers were moving with a smoothness mine could not match. As I watched, he passed one loop through another and held them up triumphantly. "Done!" "Ooh..." —It was a beautifully woven crown of flowers. He must have calculated even the angles at which the flowers protruded.
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