Amthy leaned out the window of her room at House Helston and admired the soon-to-be-waking apple tree outside of it. Spring was nearly upon her. It beat giddy within her heart and burst from her in gay anticipation. Small showers of golden motes sizzled on the air. Points of light that winked in and out of existence. The world would be new again and with it so would she.

Where "her" room"actually her sister Cayt's"was a landscape of crystal and lilac romance, the room at the House was complimentary in its contrast. Cold, sharp stones were replaced with swathes of velvet; the tufted dense pile delicious decadence upon the skin. This she took from Kitty for the Nymph dearly loved to roll around in the other Helston's room. The color, however, reflected her style and was a lively patterned pink, purple, and white. The pigments were echoed around the room and in the wall coverings.

Affectionately, Amthy drew her hand across an apple branch. Memories of Miles climbing in the window warmed her as she went back inside. It was only when she was inside that she truly felt the chill. She trembled and wrapped her arms around her. Soon, it would be warm, she reminded herself.

Amthy snagged a leftover piece of chocolate from her beside table and nibbled on the corner. Her closet was open and she was undertaking the arduous task of sorting her dresses for the season. She hadn't gotten very far. Though, she had managed to beat her record for the cup and ball game and that was something to be proud of.

Reflecting on her accomplishment the Nymph primped and preened. She fluffed her imaginary feathers and then went to molest some real ones, digging her fingers into a box that held a portion of her collection. Plucking a primary from its fellows"it was yellow edged in orange"Amthy tickled her cheek as she ate her chocolate.

She was just coming to peace with the idea that she would never actually clean her closet when an idea struck her. Brightening she straightened and wagged the feather excitedly about. "'ve got it!" She chirped. Who said she needed to sort it all? She'd just donate every third dress to the shelter. That would make room for her spring attire. Laughing happily, she pat her own back (awkwardly) with a chocolate-smeared grubby hand. Her task would be over lickity split!

It was a tragedy. Pink was not among the colors of the upcoming season. Pink! How could it have been overlooked" It was darling and sweet. Sometimes sassy. It was a perfect color that went smashingly with green. Amthy frowned deeply as she looked at the sorted piles of dresses. All the others she had managed to squish into sacks, but the gigantic pile of pink; she couldn't bear to part with.

Why no pink"

She couldn't wrap her airy head around the idea. Her thoughts whirled around and around and came back to the same baffling conclusion. Someone"or many someones"had been woefully misled about what colors provoked the feeling of spring. What she needed to do was write a letter. Who would write it' Ardane was far away and only other body she'd spied"granted she wasn't searching very hard"was the Lecher (otherwise known as Trae's boyfriend) who was out working the grounds.

What was she going to do?

She hufflepuffed in annoyance, strands of gradient green fluttering away from her brow. Pulling open drawers Amthy went through her desk and found some pink construction paper and her crayons as well as several other crafty things. She went down into the House common area and with her brightest pink she drew a large heart in the center. The Fae gave it a critical eye and added several smaller ones around the sides. She found her glue, she tried to always have some handy, and her glitter.

It was art and it was pink. Most importantly, it would tell the realm (and the silly neglectful somebodies) how important pink was to spring.