Ultima
Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies
She’s been slowly making her way from one place to the next. Weaver started with the skies, just trying to get a general feel for the lay of the land around here. There wasn’t much, honestly, and it felt small in a wrong sort of way. Were they being kept out of parts of the Rift on purpose? What else did this place have to offer, or was this really it? It was hard for her to believe this was all there was, a bunch of shitty places surrounded by water. Maybe though, that really was all they would get here. It did not feel like a place she could call home.
This place though, the clear walls that lead through the sea into a cave system, is a lovely place. The island too had been lovely. Perhaps it wasn’t quite as bad as she thinks it is, but there are mountains, and therefore it really does not feel like home. She’s never been one for water really, unless it was warm and glorious and ideally came with some cute boys. The Rift seemed to lack these things.
She makes her way through the cavern, Raven still nestled in his makeshift nest on her back. He’s pulled her cape up all around himself, leaving little to cover her, though she doesn’t mind. The raven feathers still sit around her neck, and the half-metal breastplate covers the rune of Death on her chest, though it bears the same rune etched into the metal. The silver spike dangles from a chain around her neck, and as she finally finds the shore, it catches what little bit of sunlight peaks through the clouds. There’s little sun here though, like everywhere, and the wet sand sucks at her feet.
It could be beautiful though, perhaps, with some sunlight and some sanity. This shore seems relatively safe though. No eyes peak out at her, nothing whispers in her ears for the moment, though the whispers come and go now. Find secrets, they had said. Why did they want secrets? Then again, knowledge is power, though getting such knowledge would require that she find a few horses that want to trust her. She sighs slightly, imagining that task. The whispers must know she’s the worst person for this job, and it’s probably a laugh to them.
This place though, the clear walls that lead through the sea into a cave system, is a lovely place. The island too had been lovely. Perhaps it wasn’t quite as bad as she thinks it is, but there are mountains, and therefore it really does not feel like home. She’s never been one for water really, unless it was warm and glorious and ideally came with some cute boys. The Rift seemed to lack these things.
She makes her way through the cavern, Raven still nestled in his makeshift nest on her back. He’s pulled her cape up all around himself, leaving little to cover her, though she doesn’t mind. The raven feathers still sit around her neck, and the half-metal breastplate covers the rune of Death on her chest, though it bears the same rune etched into the metal. The silver spike dangles from a chain around her neck, and as she finally finds the shore, it catches what little bit of sunlight peaks through the clouds. There’s little sun here though, like everywhere, and the wet sand sucks at her feet.
It could be beautiful though, perhaps, with some sunlight and some sanity. This shore seems relatively safe though. No eyes peak out at her, nothing whispers in her ears for the moment, though the whispers come and go now. Find secrets, they had said. Why did they want secrets? Then again, knowledge is power, though getting such knowledge would require that she find a few horses that want to trust her. She sighs slightly, imagining that task. The whispers must know she’s the worst person for this job, and it’s probably a laugh to them.
weaver
charks pony :)
