Stavanger Bay Keep my mind busy

dawn arrives on the silverly coastline at precisely seven o'clock, with prisms of tangerine sunlight spilling over the aquamarine waves like a empress' cloak. creased in its corner, bundled against the rolling hips of the sea. the aroma of brine is thick, bolstered by the sharpness of fish viscera rotting away in mesas of compacted sand. winter cuts some of the humidity, but even still an oppressiveness weighs down the air -- suffocating, imprisoning. the type of air which sticks to the insides of your lungs, lining it with salt and heat. 

bane of the sea.

he comes shortly after the dazzling sunrise, escorted only by a trail of uprooted sands which flies airborne behind his shuffling feet. and oh, is he without care. his gait is languorous, with all the makings of a king of everything; and he is, for in his mind the bouldered dynasty of Druid is precisely that -- everything, and more. the gods are not thanked today for the glorious sunrise, but rather Kieran rejoices in the delicacies and wild architecture nature is capable of. blasphemer-thing, derelict soldier. 

with loftiness, he seats himself among the dunes so that it forms a cushioned throne around his body. his eyes are cast outward, onto the southerly unfolding of the sea coupled with the dazzling array of sunlight. he feels a degree of serenity creep into his frenzied soul, so that -- for once -- ease wriggles into his taut muscles. he can feel the release of the wound muscles come slowly, like the unraveling of tightly spun spool. 

he is coming undone. 

@Gyda