Post by Weaver Bellamont on Apr 24, 2009 18:01:53 GMT -5
It was early yet. Shades of crimson, orange, and yellow still blended on the horizon in wide sweeping washes of colour. Each bled into each other, fighting the hints of pale azure that was slowly forcing them deeper into the skyline.The morning was almost completely still with barely a breeze, only a soft, almost non-existent whisper. The low tide seemed to move so minimally, that it was hard to tell if it was changing at all. Weaver stood from her perch on a large rock near the shoreline. Her loose skirt fluttered around her calves as she started to walking towards the water, her bare feet leaving small print in the sand.
Her careful tread made no splash as she hit the water's edge, her legs left no ripple in their wake. It was as if the ocean paid no heed to her presence, just an accepted part of itself. Like it felt no need to acknowledge her. Weaver sighed, letting her mind wander as she walked, is this what she had been reduced to? Long walks on the beach in her spare time? Watching the sunrise? The ground beneath her trembled momentarily. What ever happened to days of power and plenty? She could feel the strength of the Earth and the force of water running through her veins, empowering her anger, feeding her bitterness.
Weaver sat down in the shallow water in a huff, quickly soaking the thin material of her skirt, and the bottom edges of her shirt. Yes, as it turned out, this is what she had been reduced to. Weaver had no delusions about the grandeur of bravery, as far as she was concerned was pure vanity, but at the same time she was starting to feel pretty pathetic. She had spent so many years, hidden, quiet. Why? Was she a whining animal, cowering in a corner? No, so why was she playing the part?
Weaver pushed herself up from the ground to her feet. Something had to change.
[Great work - The Dark Master Mage position is yours.] ~J~
Her careful tread made no splash as she hit the water's edge, her legs left no ripple in their wake. It was as if the ocean paid no heed to her presence, just an accepted part of itself. Like it felt no need to acknowledge her. Weaver sighed, letting her mind wander as she walked, is this what she had been reduced to? Long walks on the beach in her spare time? Watching the sunrise? The ground beneath her trembled momentarily. What ever happened to days of power and plenty? She could feel the strength of the Earth and the force of water running through her veins, empowering her anger, feeding her bitterness.
Weaver sat down in the shallow water in a huff, quickly soaking the thin material of her skirt, and the bottom edges of her shirt. Yes, as it turned out, this is what she had been reduced to. Weaver had no delusions about the grandeur of bravery, as far as she was concerned was pure vanity, but at the same time she was starting to feel pretty pathetic. She had spent so many years, hidden, quiet. Why? Was she a whining animal, cowering in a corner? No, so why was she playing the part?
Weaver pushed herself up from the ground to her feet. Something had to change.
[Great work - The Dark Master Mage position is yours.] ~J~