[Even if the moths are not consuming her in this dream, they seem to like her anyway, fluttering softly at the lapel of the jacket of her brown woolen walking suit, perching in her hair alongside the wide-lensed goggles that she wears on top of her head. The lenses of the goggles are stained another of those impossible colors - irrigo, which the eye sees as a sort of purple when it can hold the idea of the color at all, for irrigo provokes forgetfulness.]
I've never been certain just how self-aware frost-moths are, t'be honest, but on the other hand I don't think these are real frost-moths.
no subject
[Even if the moths are not consuming her in this dream, they seem to like her anyway, fluttering softly at the lapel of the jacket of her brown woolen walking suit, perching in her hair alongside the wide-lensed goggles that she wears on top of her head. The lenses of the goggles are stained another of those impossible colors - irrigo, which the eye sees as a sort of purple when it can hold the idea of the color at all, for irrigo provokes forgetfulness.]
I've never been certain just how self-aware frost-moths are, t'be honest, but on the other hand I don't think these are real frost-moths.