Autumn held the entire Netherworld in its clutches, and on this day, feasts of gratitude for harvests, for friends, for loved ones were being held across the lands, seas, mountains, and below, in graves, in magma.
She went to Bat Heart Spa, coming out fresh, clean, and smelling like lilac wyvern scales. At home, she considered two lipsticks. Unable to decide, she showed both to the lazily judging cat lounging on her bed. “This is…?” it asked. “Date two.” Indigo.