Well... Rusty had a lot to prepare, and not very much time to do it in. So she had taken her wooden box of feathers and things outside to find a place to get started. And the butterfly garden had somehow appeared in her path, as though it wanted her to do it there. It was the perfect place really, even if it was getting a little late in the year for butterflies.

She took a seat on the ground and crossed her legs, wiggling her bare toes until she got comfortable, then opened the box and took out the half finished mask. All she had to do now was stick on the remaining feathers and leaves. She held the mask in place on her face for a second, and squeezed the bit that rested on her nose so that the wire inside it would take the right shape, then got to work.

She sang to herself as she layered the leaves and the feathers on the mask, glueing them in place from the outside in so that they were arranged almost like real feathers would be. It was a little song about nature and cycles, one that reminded her of home and made her feel cosy, only two verses, but with a nice enough tune and feel that she didn't mind singing it a few times in a row.