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01-14-2015, 08:53 PM
Cirrus
the Wind Dancer
Home.
The desert scent slapped her in the face, and along with it, came the flood. It was a torrent of memories, washing over her, through her, ripping her apart. The girl flew hard and fast, her tears torn away from her eyes by the wind her own movement generated. Memories of hearing Sitka's song howling across the sandy expanse, of running and playing with him, of healing with Onni and learning and loving and living… It was almost enough to make her turn back and (attempt to) cross the border at the Threshold again.
But she didn't. Something new pulled her, drove her, summoned her to these lands. Something ancient and foreign and wonderful had filled her, and she had to use it while it lingered or else she feared, she would stop living altogether.
The cloud dropped from the sky like a raindrop, wings pinned at her sides, forelimbs stretched out in front whilst her hindlimbs tucked up beneath her barrel. She was a bullet, deadly and sure; the Dragon's Throat was her target. At the last possible instant, her wings opened and her acceleration halted abruptly, the strain upon her muscles causing her to grunt but otherwise transition into a gentler descent - enough so that her legs did not break upon impact, at least.
Sand rose around her like a cloud of a different hue, staining her legs in a familiar warmth that she found strangely comforting. Pale, cerulean pools peered about, as flutes twisted atop her tiara, taking in the changes that time had wrought upon the landscape in silent reverie. The last time she had stood here, Sitka had stood beside her.
I miss you, she mourned to him.
To the silence.
[ ooc :: open to any! she's waiting at the borders, and would like to join! ]
The desert scent slapped her in the face, and along with it, came the flood. It was a torrent of memories, washing over her, through her, ripping her apart. The girl flew hard and fast, her tears torn away from her eyes by the wind her own movement generated. Memories of hearing Sitka's song howling across the sandy expanse, of running and playing with him, of healing with Onni and learning and loving and living… It was almost enough to make her turn back and (attempt to) cross the border at the Threshold again.
But she didn't. Something new pulled her, drove her, summoned her to these lands. Something ancient and foreign and wonderful had filled her, and she had to use it while it lingered or else she feared, she would stop living altogether.
The cloud dropped from the sky like a raindrop, wings pinned at her sides, forelimbs stretched out in front whilst her hindlimbs tucked up beneath her barrel. She was a bullet, deadly and sure; the Dragon's Throat was her target. At the last possible instant, her wings opened and her acceleration halted abruptly, the strain upon her muscles causing her to grunt but otherwise transition into a gentler descent - enough so that her legs did not break upon impact, at least.
Sand rose around her like a cloud of a different hue, staining her legs in a familiar warmth that she found strangely comforting. Pale, cerulean pools peered about, as flutes twisted atop her tiara, taking in the changes that time had wrought upon the landscape in silent reverie. The last time she had stood here, Sitka had stood beside her.
I miss you, she mourned to him.
To the silence.
[ ooc :: open to any! she's waiting at the borders, and would like to join! ]
sxc.hu | larfsalot
please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
I write what I feel at the time
and hope everyone else does the same c:
