Dragoncrest Cliffs & waves don't make a sailor of me,
wearing my dream like a diadem in some better land.
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Setting The cliffs / shores, late afternoon
Time Few days pre-war
She leapt not to kill, but to study. To learn. However, as the next winter-bird flurried into the skies, the frosted sands whirled about the brana who landed just out of reach. The vëa may have found some peace today, and for that, she held envy for it; it had all mannerism and pretense to acquire what it needed; it could rage or calm when it wished. All of this, of its own accord and especially not out of politeness for the whims of others.

In a way, the sea was also like a mother, she was coming to learn. A mother who threw briney tantrums. A mother who could birth, could give, could feed the children of its shores—and just easily take it back.

Heavens... if only it were the same with the winged. A bit more than winded, Aure’s breath stuttered as she languidly cast herself back into the sands, pillowed along the fronds smattered among the ridges and rises. Neck bared to the morning, her eyes fluttered closed with a soft grumble.

She’d try again. Later.
Messages In This Thread
& waves don't make a sailor of me, - by Andraste - January 06, 2019, 02:07 PM
RE: & waves don't make a sailor of me, - by Artaax - January 08, 2019, 06:54 PM
RE: & waves don't make a sailor of me, - by Andraste - January 08, 2019, 07:47 PM
RE: & waves don't make a sailor of me, - by Artaax - January 11, 2019, 08:45 PM
RE: & waves don't make a sailor of me, - by Andraste - January 12, 2019, 04:39 AM
RE: & waves don't make a sailor of me, - by Artaax - January 13, 2019, 05:11 PM