Sandy doesn’t understand gender. No, that’s wrong, how can he not, so submerged in dreams and children as he is? For long ages, his physical body has brought the words he/him/his to other’s lips with liquid ease, and so Sanderson has adopted and adapted. Now he is a he, though that has no true bearing upon him. Star-pilots see with ease in their sleep, so submerged within the given dreams of one and another, that the many different names and titles of the all that could reach him did, and he was given grant the understanding of these labels, though star-pilots are of one form and that is all that they are. Sandy’s form is but one of many that command the will and flight of stars, and as that one of many he speaks in a language so vast and old that none can truly understand unless within a dream or unless they were a star. So loud did they voice, that he made oath to keep such a commotion silent, lest the children awaken from their slumber unneeded. Earth is so small, and his voice is so large in its reach, that even a sigh could bring gusts within a believer’s mind, creating disruption within their cycles.
Sandy is also a Guardian, as as a Guardian, he is the object of many a child’s belief, by life force and by shape. With every cluster of people on a space of land that has a different image of him through the ages, he projects that face with the ease of sand falling in an hourglass. Forms and shape mean nothing to him, for he is old in age and experience, and clothing and walk and names mean nothing in face of skill and personality and that inner core that gives each being their drive.
So, now, he is Sandy, and he is short (he is always short), and he looks like a star, and his clothes are dips that give shape and flow to that image. He is quiet (physically, he never utters a word but there are more than one ways in which to speak), and he is constantly falling asleep (as is always needed to be more connected to listening to a believer’s wish), and he hovers to gain attention (and loves dearly those that kneel to keep his).
He is also Sandy, who has worn every piece of clothing called forth by every culture. He is Sandy, who’s gender has been mostly he, but also she, and also them, and also other words, alien and foreign and delightful and harsh. He has been pictured as tall, but always appears short (for that is one thing that Sandy finds always stays the same). He can walk, he can glide, he can appear, he can disappear.
In the end, however, he is Sanderson ManSnoozie, Sandman the First, Lord High Protector of Sleep and Dreams, and that can be done in any form as long as the job is completed to the highest caliber available. He can be he, she can be she, they can be whatever they wish, form as any form dreamed upon.
In the end, Sandy is a Star-Pilot, brought out from sleep in aide from a desperate wish to protect, and has done so to the fullest of skills with help from the best of Friends and comrades, and that is all that matters at the end of the day.
2087
baratheonpilled
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janainaart
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