Dragoncrest Cliffs heavy is the crown and yet she wears it as if it were light as a feather

It has been a long time since Eske has visited the cliffs to simply visit them. Normally, she keeps herself occupied with her duties as Wanlida and taking care of Furi though her young Second appears to be accumulating better into Drageda now, taking off to spend time with Étoille and Blixen. Eske is proud of her for it, for going out and socializing. Perhaps with more socialization she will begin to feel more at home in Drageda though this is one a hope for Eske. While she would undoubtedly hate to see Furi leave the Drakru would never dream of convincing her to stay if she did not truly wish to. Eske cannot relate to feeling like an outsider because she’s never been one. This has always been her home, her people, her culture. She does not desire to know anything else ( and this, perhaps, she is extremely close minded ). As she stares out at the sea that stretches out endlessly before her from the safety of high ground she thinks of her mother and father, she thinks of her small siblings: ones that she will never know. She thinks of the littermate that she has disowned and sworn she would kill on sight if they ever dared to step near her or Drageda again, traitors she has branded them in her mind. She thinks of Kendra, missing her with an ache in her chest that every now and then flares up in the midst of Eske’s loneliness. It flares today and the Wanlida draws in a deep breath of the briny salt air and lets it out in a heavy exhale, her tail curling close to her paws as she looses herself in her thoughts, confronting that which she had pushed away in the hopes that it would simply vanish.