Midnight seemed appropriate. When she was the Storyteller for the Falls it didn't seem to matter when she called to her Father. Perhaps that was because there was no time of day associated with the earth, as there was with the moon, or perhaps it was simply because he was her father. Then again, the Moon was her aunt.
Still, midnight seemed to work.
Mists swirled around Isopia as she moved like a ghost through the darkness. Hubris and Babel followed, their talons making clacking sounds that were much more quiet than Isopia's hooves, but she could still discern them from the other sounds. Coming to halt near the end of one of the cliffs, Isopia looked down to the black waters below, breathing in the salty spray that coated the air. Glancing over her shoulder, Isopia wondered if someone would join her. Most liked to be the presence of the Goddess, and in all her time as a Storyteller before, she'd never had a summons that was solitary.
But they weren't her concern. Kaos was.
"Goddess." Isopia breathed silently into the night, knowing that she did not need to shout, or stamp, or do much of anything to get the attention of the ever-watchful lavender lady.
isopia
in places deep with roots entwined
i live among you, well disguised
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