Wheeling Gull Isle ≡ Invitations

She cascaded down a mountainside. Months of running and hiding to flee from the violence of her past have birthed new beginnings. There is a tinge of sorrow that clings to her face, but so does the hopefulness of things to come. 

  The wilderness that has begun to unfold before her is precious. Life is abundant and is seen in the verdant trees, sweeping blades of grass, and the blissful chirp of birds that sing their song to the morning sun. 

  The warmth of the cascading rays hold her in a gentle embrace. A smile forms across black lips as she looks forward. This was going to be a wonderful thing.

  The green and gold colors of the morning create a perfect ambiance and Isarda moves forward. She draws near the bank of a small pond and drinks deep. Tongue rolls across her maw to clear the droplets of water that have settled to her snout. Gently she scratches at her ear and looks around her. Where would she go now? What waited for her?