[Felvarg] POC: Egg-Cellent Festivities

While on one of her evening walks, Yulia overheard some chatter coming from a crowd. As she approached she saw what they were fixated on. Dozens of dazzling eggs. But these eggs were not dazzling on their own. They did not come from a chicken nor duck rump this colorful. Within the crowd voices of ownership and compliments echoed from mouth to mouth. It dawned on Yulia, the seasons had changed, it must have crept up behind her. It was time for the egg race. The voices of excitement rang like alarm bells in Yulia's ears. She wasn't ready. She still hadn't recovered from last time. The embarrassment that was her trying to paint her egg just for it to immediately break upon first brush stroke… a true tragedy. She didn't even go to the event last year out of shame. Why did she have to use a stick as a paint brush? Why did she think that would be a good idea? Yulia shook bad thoughts from her head. She wasn't going to make this mistake again. Last year she must have used some kind of hardwood. Not this year. She was going to use a softwood stick this time. With fire burning throughout her heart, Yulia got to work. She needed to work somewhere completely silent with no interruptions. As she wandered aimlessly around the woods in search for that place, a face she didn't recognize stood before her.

"Please don't tell me you're going to use a stick to paint again…"

Yulia's eyes shifted back and forth. "It's soft wood."

The stranger sighed. "Take my paint brush. Just-...." their eyes closed. "Please don't break the egg this time doing something stupid." 

Yulia took the paintbrush and straightened her back up, "YESSIR." Birds fled from the trees above them, every fish in the river swam as far away from Yulia's booming voice. 

The stranger looked disappointed yet not surprised. Their mouth opened, ready to say something, but simply let out a sigh and walked off. 

Yulia's eyes whipped back to the task at hand. Down to where her egg was. She stood in the ready position to let her creativity flow. There was only grass. And her soft stick.

She forgot to get an egg. 

An hour later, when Yulia got herself an egg, as well as things to use as paint which she almost forgot to bring with her, she was actually ready this time. Yulia closed her eyes, allowing nature to guide her train of thought. In her head she envisioned the perfect egg. The most beautiful egg. The absolutely most rollable egg that was sure to win first place. The spirits guided her, her eyes remained closed the entire time, her hunch told her to do so or else the spirit helping her paint would disappear. She didn't want to risk it. When her heartbeat went from the pounding of a drum to that of the gentle footsteps of a mouse, her eyes opened at the masterpiece she created. It was beautiful. Yulia carefully picked it up, and walked to where the event would be taking place.

"Ah, Yulia, going to try your luck this year?" someone asked.  

Yulia opened her mouth to reply, the egg fell and broke on the ground in front of her.

Yulia did not attend the event for the second year in a row.