Sawtooth, from a distance, was not what she remembered.
From an outlook on the proud Sunspire, Ciri took a long break to study her birthplace's impenetrable reaches that stretched into the clouds, each jagged tooth that gave the land its name. It looked unforgiving - not at all like the home she'd held for so long in memory. Onward she went toward it, nose working desperately in attempt to locate some suggestion that her father might've reclaimed it.
But no one made their home on Sawtooth. Not since Sagtannet.
The swallow was quick to find the den in which she and her sister had been whelped. It was a small cavern tucked away on the mountainside, much smaller than she recalled, though she supposed that made sense now that she was grown. It seemed like such a lonely place now, void of all the joy and laughter shared among she and her family so long ago. Although it was nothing extravagant it'd once been everything to her - and would forever hold meaning for as long as it stood strong.
Ciri felt sorrow rise in her throat as she stepped carefully closer, fearful of what little things may serve as a sore reminder of the happiest months of her youth. She lingered with uncertainty at the threshold, finding herself unable to duck her head inside. Tearful gaze lifting, Ciri attempted to blink all sign of her pain away. Her focus turned to the grassy slope that led away from the hollow, to the proud tree that stood tall nearby. She stifled a sob; she knew this place better than she knew any other.
Trembling, the yearling sank pitifully to the ground. It was there she crumbled, let herself weep freely, and finally let herself mourn for her late family. Each sob racked her fragile frame and she cried until nausea clawed its way into her gut. She curled into a ball and unleashed the emotion until there was nothing left of her to give.
From an outlook on the proud Sunspire, Ciri took a long break to study her birthplace's impenetrable reaches that stretched into the clouds, each jagged tooth that gave the land its name. It looked unforgiving - not at all like the home she'd held for so long in memory. Onward she went toward it, nose working desperately in attempt to locate some suggestion that her father might've reclaimed it.
But no one made their home on Sawtooth. Not since Sagtannet.
The swallow was quick to find the den in which she and her sister had been whelped. It was a small cavern tucked away on the mountainside, much smaller than she recalled, though she supposed that made sense now that she was grown. It seemed like such a lonely place now, void of all the joy and laughter shared among she and her family so long ago. Although it was nothing extravagant it'd once been everything to her - and would forever hold meaning for as long as it stood strong.
Ciri felt sorrow rise in her throat as she stepped carefully closer, fearful of what little things may serve as a sore reminder of the happiest months of her youth. She lingered with uncertainty at the threshold, finding herself unable to duck her head inside. Tearful gaze lifting, Ciri attempted to blink all sign of her pain away. Her focus turned to the grassy slope that led away from the hollow, to the proud tree that stood tall nearby. She stifled a sob; she knew this place better than she knew any other.
Trembling, the yearling sank pitifully to the ground. It was there she crumbled, let herself weep freely, and finally let herself mourn for her late family. Each sob racked her fragile frame and she cried until nausea clawed its way into her gut. She curled into a ball and unleashed the emotion until there was nothing left of her to give.
"And then the world started to exist again,
but it existed very differently."
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