Dahozhoni Meadow the red crown

buzzards crooned a symphony of ruin in the windswept ether, a choir thundering forth the arrival of an unholy audience.

sand-kissed and weary, a voice soared high above the idle chatter of a skittering trio. “we claim this land tonight,” the command ushered forth with honey-thick ambition. the flutter of an eyelid later and the bodies are dancing to the beat of soaring wings.

one acolyte delivered a hide of finely tanned leather, another the satchel of freshly fermented fruits plucked from a vinery in the far south. their figures sway nimbly amongst one another as shumura lay sprawled amongst the wildflowers, the gold of her gaze snared to the far stretching desert surrounding them.

the perfume of death teased the air and she felt a surge arise as new breath in her lungs. a moment later and she was bounding toward the three, a kissed placed to each chin as they prepared the encampment.

“the one who waits sings in the breeze. this land will be o u r s.”