Exton

Grace slept quietly on a couch in the converted store room. Torrent had worked hard to create a space for her to rest during her hours at the Gallery. Her eyes had lit up at the refurbished sign hanging from a wrought iron angle above the door. A small demifae now graces the plank, caught in the act of blowing magic dust. The iridescent cloud swirls, flowing out to form the words Flights of Fantasy. He had taken the idea for the embellishment from the canvas Morgan's people had destroyed, adapting it for the sign.

The ruined painting was now scattered around the gallery in small stolen moments. A few miniatures now look like moments of time, caught for eternity. A few others are vague forest bits with barely-seen figures. These, as part of the whole, brought a wonder. Now, on their own, they have a darker feel. Grace stared at the salvage. Her eyes filled with tears and she had hugged Torrent.

"See, all was not lost Gracie. Welcome Home."

He had shown her the things he had done with the forgotten room. His Brownie heritage making the cleaning and conversion a true joy. Tori had only shook her head, but had admitted that it was just what Grace needed. He had even had a shifter put a window in; where once it would have faced a graffiti-filled wall, it now opened onto a mural of deep woods and joy.

Three young teens are currently engrossed in the project. Their dark hair almost blending with the night's shadows. They will be stopping soon, but what they had wrought was amazing. Shifters, in all phases, wandered the woods. Three young teens with raven wings sat on the upper branches of a tall oak. They looked down on everything below. Amusement curved their lips. Self portraits, one had told him. They were adding details, working on the small town in the distance. Exton, as seen from the Shifter's "Game Preserve".

One waves through the window and points up. Time to leave. They always leave just before the sun completely disappears from the alley. Grace stirs, drawing his attention to her.

She sits up slowly, and smiles. Tori leans against the doorframe, holding a cup of Earl Grey tea. She hands the cup to Grace and sits next to her.

"Feel better, Graclyn?"

Grace sighs. "I know you have been giving me energy Torrent. You need to stop."

The Brownie merely smiles.

"When it is time to stop, I shall stop. I looked at your sketch pad. So many beautiful images. I saw there is a new piece on your easel. You don't plan to paint them all do you?"

Grace looks into the alley and sighs, a small content sound.

"As many as I can, Torrent... as many as I can."