there is a flame to the sole of her feet, the gentle blaze a kindling in her steps. mountain-born, she called to the cliff side as if greeting an old combatant. stone, greyscale, a storm cloud rolling in. this peak reminded her of a land not forgotten.
chilled from the peak's breeze, nephele took to a grotto nestled along the nook of her path. moss-ladened and damp, she sought the driest of what the hollow offered. huddled against the drafty wall she watched as tears fell from heaven's cage.
and in the solitude of the summit's shadow, she thought of a family left behind.
chilled from the peak's breeze, nephele took to a grotto nestled along the nook of her path. moss-ladened and damp, she sought the driest of what the hollow offered. huddled against the drafty wall she watched as tears fell from heaven's cage.
and in the solitude of the summit's shadow, she thought of a family left behind.
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