Green moss and goold thread, dat’s what it was med on; just dem two things... “Mossycoat,” she called it, and she gave de name to de younger daughter, as she’d med it for.... It was a magic coat, she said, a wishing coat, she telt her daughter; when she’d got it on, she telt her she’d only to wish to be somewhere, and she’d be dere, dat wery instant, and de same if she wanted to change hersel’ into summat else, like to be a swan or a bee.
- Mossycoat -
Dear little Mossycoat.
I found her coat, it was in tatters, as was her fine white silk dress and the crown and melted all over the pebbles. From rags to riches and now back into the overgrown moss once more.
But I preserved you dear Mossycoat.
The dead moss from her coat has been stitched into the golden moss-etched pebbles and strung with thousands of precious mossy beads, culminating in a large golden pendant; where the magic lies. I unearthed two segments of her crown, the circles still perfect, and I stretched out her white silk dress to protect the wishes. Underneath the silk lies the only piece of the Mossycoat that still possesses the wishing power.
If you’re quiet, and close your eyes tight and whisper your wish into the coat, Mossycoat may just turn you into what you desire to be the most.
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