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Ava
It was supposed to be home, but somehow it wasn’t. The child had left the portal, slipping through this world. The child she had met had helped, she was at least standing, walking, willing to talk, but there wasn’t much improvement in the poor girl beyond that. Still, she was here, and that was better than being at the feet of the portal where death and gloom pervaded every thought. The youth she’d met at the entrance had at least begun that desire, the desire to seek something beyond an end. A desire she had not had in quite a while.
What she sought though was rather simple, and not really a solution either. Though the memory stung and was covered in cobwebs, she remembered a beach. A beautiful beach, hot perhaps, but long. It was at the edge of a forest, she’d rushed up into it…So now she was here, slipping through the world to try and find some fleeting memory. Not all is as it should be though. Though she walks with ever a grace, the usual lightfootedness is still gone, and though her wings, bare of their armor, hang carefully tucked by her sides, her shoulders sag. And the ocean breeze, ever her mirror, lays still and dead upon her back. It was all still there. The potential of the pearl. But it was weighted and drowned in the long nights of loneliness and solemn grief.
In such a state she walked until the world woke her from it. A howl rang through the thick humid air. She stops and grows alert. Her old ways of carefree wandering have been rubbed raw by her recent months to where she no longer hears or sees scenes of fright without trepidation and fear. A shadow, the wind, something rushes by, just on the otherside of the vegetation. Curved ears fold back and she sidesteps from the rustling. Whatever it was far too busy with its own life to notice her. With harks still back, the looks forward. Her pale coat pricking with unknowing. Then slowly, one step before the other she walks on (fearful, but still letting her fearlessness take hold).
What she finds around the corner was not as strange as she had imagined, but just as curious. A stallion… before a stag as her sea eyes find him. Had he been hurt? Or done the hurting? Was that his voice? “Are you alright?” Her voice bares the level tones of her current prison, but her head does tilt, and her legs carry her own into the clearing. “I heard the...noise….” She speaks, revealing she’s not all she used to be. Her thoughtless questions now also weighed down by the weight of thought and mindfulness.
"their speech goes here and this is the color
OOC:: Wake her out of her duldrum mood Rikyn! =D
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Rainforest Cliffs
