Ooh. I'm gonna use Gracelings-verse in my next fic.
Night stars glittered with the perserverance of the Buffalo hunt, Birch mused - but of course, though buffalo hunts were important, stars littering the velvet-lined sky was much, much prettier. The girl, around eighteen, with long, dark-sun-streaked-caramel braids, a small nose and wide hazel eyes with flecks of forest green, lay on her small bad of grass underneath the sprawling, pale tree, branches jutting out like an arranged picture. Plopping down beside her in a not very elegant or perfect manner, Pine, with her strawberry-blonde locks, thinning to her shoulder, and brilliant, clear-cut emerald eyes, didn’t look anything like her sister. She sat thoughtfully, crossing one of her legs over the other neatly. In silence together, the two, just gazing at the flickering stars like were serendipity, holes in the sky, comfortable in the warm but breezy night air.
“Birch,” Pine started suddenly. “Isn’t it so peaceful? And perfect nowadays...” her serene expression and quiet, soft voice floating lazily through the sweet air.
The girl in question turned towards her youngest sister, only seven or eight. “Yes, Pine.” she murmured gently, her mother side shining through. There would be plenty to tell, to explain, to save for later. Maple, that familiar name striking a mental chord in her head. Of course, Cypress, the philosophical eleven-year-old, had probably seen this coming, and Cedar, the dreamy one who always seemed to argue with the mother-figure, had also somehow predicted. But no, better to let Pine sleep well without any disturbance haunting her dreams, without breathless nights staying up, confused and frustrated with the world. Better not to mention the newcomers, the diseases, the reasons behind everything...no. Birch, her sisters, they would all save that for later.