Greatwater Lake a string of pearls

There was a strange sense of peace to the sound of lapping waves. There was something that Siv could not entirely explain – though she’d never had to – about her affinity with the water. Skuld Shore had been a good birthplace for the fiery female. She could not have asked for a better upbringing, either; Siv’s mother had been a good caretaker, and had trained the troublemaker well enough. Her childhood had not been without difficulties, however. When Siv’s father had left her with only her mother to care for her, it was disheartening news. Siv’s mother had never spoken ill of the vagabond male who had given her life and purpose. In fact, he had been a popular topic for nightly stories when the young girl could not fall asleep. In spite of his absence, the honey-hued girl had grown to admire him for his adventures and escapades. She would often lie awake wondering where in the world he could have run off to, and what lively things he was accomplishing. Her body was sprawled in the sand, paws stretched out in front of her in hopes that the water would brush against them before returning back to its mass. She watched with bright eyes, blinking tiredly against the autumn sunlight that streamed against her agouti pelt. Part of her had not wanted to leave the lakeside when she had discovered it, which had been the result of her plopping into the sand with a contented sigh. Then, she came to realize that it was no place to call home, but it would hold her interest for a considerable while longer. The further away from the water she was, the more anxious she got.