Seaside Moors my boy builds coffins with hammers and nails

backdated april 14th. @Rosencrantz
& leadership welcome: @Erzulie / @Rosalyn / @Aningan

toes press strong against the shivering blades, crushing them without so much as a cursory glance. the distant shimmer of moonbeams dancing upon sneering waters that blend with the horizon in their vastness is what snatches the soldier's attention and she is left feeling no better than the miniscule embodiments of life tickling at her paws. the curious hum of the salty air strips her bare and a wild cast of tenebrous glares confirms that there is nowhere for cover and she is a bare, naked speck in the gloom. her discomfort is not only hers, the ruffling feathers of the shadow lurking by her side confirms this. he does not belong here with the harsh singsong of the birds of the sea and yet still he follows her. warmth tickles the anxious thumps of her heart. 

she wishes she could recall the freedom such infinitesimal existence granted her previously, the ability to live away from prying eyes with rosencrantz but when faced with the stark reality of the coast she is once more nothing and uncertainty lashes ruthlessly forth. time passes languidly as she lingers in her hesitance, lacking a care for the woman that clutches so desperately at each minute that remains her own. 

but it's time she must- she must!

"i must" she exhales, whisper battling forth to join the moan of the breeze that stroked at the curves of her figure. bertók voices his disagreement with a hissed caw but she must selfishly ignore him for on the borders she is certain she can smell him from previous patrols and that is enough. 

her head tilts back and her song is released to roam the air, rolling forth with a strength she wished she could confidently harbour within. it calls for the pale knight but it is expected that leadership will also find curiosity in the call at their borders as the stars peer curiously down. she waits.