Sea Lion Shores endure my heart

the morning sun has only just begun to crest the horizon, painting the dawn cloaked forest in muted golds; bringing to light the red sap that oozes from the trees of ravensblood like mortal wounds. it reminds her too much of the wound that killed dacio and in a surge of what can only be described as hatred, praimfaya turns her back on the forest, peering out at the coast that yawns before her. the tang of seasalt grows strong upon the air as she moves until solid ground gives into the shift of sands under foot and the roar of the ocean becomes more than a distant lull.

it is here she stops; silver against the dark sands and gold gilded world, peering at the endlessly churning dark waves. it is eternal, she thinks, the ocean. it feels only fury.

to be commander is to be alone

yu gonplei ste odon, praimfaya kom roankru. if being the commander of death means that everyone i love will die then i don't want it.

the dead are gone. the living are hungry.

nau ai na kik. as who? praimfaya looks out to the ocean, already knowing the answer. she had dreamed among the bleeding sequoias of ice and her mother, blodreina. azreina. azreina eyjolfur.