Skywriting

By a clear mountain stream an enchantress sat skywriting, her bracelets seemed to jangle a melody as her arms moved. The wind stopped blowing lest the clouds corrupt her work. The knight, dressed in black, wore a mask and intended damage. His knife was clenched between his teeth, as he moved noiselessly closer - breathing shallowly for stealth. The birds suddenly stopped chirping. “Go home boy,” the enchantress whispered. The knight blinked and froze but the enchantress did not look around. She pulled a half-penny from a pouch, kissed it, and lobbed it into the stream. The knight went from certain to vague - he sheathed his knife and wiped his lips. “Come, drink.” the minx motioned to the stream. As he sipped water from his cupped hands the beautiful woman said, “Your love will bear you two sons if you’re home before dark.” The knight wiped his hands on his trousers - nodded - and ran for his horse. The enchantress smiled to herself as she finished her unearthly poem.