Needle flashing, weaving through and through the strands.  Around and around, circles within circles.

“What are you doing?”  Diana rests her arms across my back and leans over my shoulder, breath tickling my neck.

I string a bead onto the thread for the next pass.  “Making you a dreamcatcher.”

“What will it do?” 

 “Protect you from the nightmares.  I need a feather.”  She combs her fingers through her wings and comes up with a loose one.

One of hers, four of mine.  I tie them on at the end and pin it over her bed.

“You’re safe tonight,” I whisper.

--

This is one of those where the scene really could've been written in way more than a hundred words, and is pretty incoherent in only that many.  But apparently it was nice, so that's good enough for me.