Ocean's Breath Plateau the seeds are in your hands

words that have been said time and time again the older she gets and the more she sees. have i..? i don't think i've grown enough. dressed in laughter, sorrow lies within the girl's tongue.

her body sways, as if the tower is about to topple, but it remains upright. the girl now stands and turns to nazli. it's just i don't agree with the sun today. just today, she swears.

cramped as they are, racharra now approaches the hemet with newfound curiosity. or maybe it's a distraction. anything to get herself out of this mud she trudges through. she keeps her distance from the coywolf, if only out of habit.
what'll you be doing? 

if it is prayer, then she hopes to join. she'll speak to her gods, like she always has. she weaves a fantasy now: they'll listen to her and perhaps, if she's truly their beloved, they'll give as she says. and summer will be just a little more hot. a drought for just the lake. may bowls of red sand suffocate the last of the water, and let nothing remain but memory. yes, she'll pray for that, for racharra is a pious girl who until today has only ever prayed to be loved.