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05-30-2013, 08:53 PM
The wanderer's path is one that many follow but suits only few. It was not something that sat easily upon the shoulders of the lanky soldier that traipsed now through the trees. He had journeyed far when a lack of familiar faces had failed to hold him here, seeking answers to unspoken questions. Questions about his family, about his love, about himself. Some of them had had answers, enough answers that at last he felt at ease with himself once more. Enough answers that he found himself once more, and the strength to carry on.
But it was still the questions that lured him back, brought his steps back to Helovia over any other place he could have ventured to, founded a new beginning in. The questions, and hope. Hope that not all was as they seemed. But for now? He would settle for what was and what he could make of it.
Winter's chill echoed icy promises in the moans of the wind between the trees, mocked summer's vibrancy in its influence on the leaves turned yellow, orange, and brown. Life was fading in the land, settling toward slumber, whispering alluringly to those who hadn't the strength to carry on. Those whispers went unnoticed by the liver chestnut, the spring in his step unfaltering as he paced deeper into the outskirts of the realm. His green eyes were alert and watchful, waiting for the inevitable appearance of some recruiting soul. There was ever to be one mad horse that would willingly leave the security and comfort of home with the intent of finding some anchorless wanderer to drag back. For once he wouldn't mind finding such.
((Much as I love my Edgers, they are not welcome to come recruiting today. Looking for Basin or Throat for Ruka.))
But it was still the questions that lured him back, brought his steps back to Helovia over any other place he could have ventured to, founded a new beginning in. The questions, and hope. Hope that not all was as they seemed. But for now? He would settle for what was and what he could make of it.
Winter's chill echoed icy promises in the moans of the wind between the trees, mocked summer's vibrancy in its influence on the leaves turned yellow, orange, and brown. Life was fading in the land, settling toward slumber, whispering alluringly to those who hadn't the strength to carry on. Those whispers went unnoticed by the liver chestnut, the spring in his step unfaltering as he paced deeper into the outskirts of the realm. His green eyes were alert and watchful, waiting for the inevitable appearance of some recruiting soul. There was ever to be one mad horse that would willingly leave the security and comfort of home with the intent of finding some anchorless wanderer to drag back. For once he wouldn't mind finding such.
((Much as I love my Edgers, they are not welcome to come recruiting today. Looking for Basin or Throat for Ruka.))
