Stavanger Bay the emptiness we leave behind on warm air rising
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All Welcome 



the lonesome ashy flakes of snow had come to an end and the fog had momentarily lifted from the pay.  early in the afternoon as the clouds broke from grey to blue overhead, the songbird made her descent from the forest and towards the rolling waves.  she treaded carefully along the slick, shimmering sands that ironsea claimed.

she shook her pelt and waded ankle deep into the frigid waters and watched the golden fingers of sunlight spread across the wide expanse of the ocean.  this was home now. quietly, ava allowed herself to sing, her crisp soprano accentuated by the various noises of the ocean as she began to wash the sand from her coat.


 


when the sun comes up we'll be nothing but dust
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the afternoon bled into evening without event.  the russet woman emerged from the water and shook out her dense arctic pelt before surveying the coast in an attempt to learn its ways.  as night began to fall she found her way back to the forest at the edge of ironsea's claim and beneath the trees she fell sound asleep.

 


when the sun comes up we'll be nothing but dust