They are still unshod, by god
-mother. (These wayward Wildling
rebel-rogue princesses.)
Barefoot loose and fancy
only in their own daisy
-chained glee. Nobody’s
waiting to be saved. No
-body’s even shaved in
weeks and weeks. It’s
all grown wild, like weeds
and flowers, ivy. Stars.
Some days, they only eat
cake. They are deeply
enamored of dragons
and the way the moon
crowns their heads in light.
Sometimes they stay up all
night, climbing trees. They’ve
built happy homes with gnomes
and flirted faeries into fluttered
-lash laughter. This is their ever after.
::
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
You are on fire. Lordy.
Thank ya, Sir.
Stunning.
I especially love the daisy to ivy section. Climbing trees. “fluttered
-lash laughter“
So much awesomeness here.