Sitting upon the cooling sand, on a beach somewhere south of Varshikar, watching the twilight fall over the waves, she could not help but reflect on the last month with some bemusement. Of all the places wind and wave had taken Ren, this island was the most diverse and yet suffocating. Elves, orcs, mages, warriors, a jumbled vibrant mix of people and new faces. Some strange, some playing the same roles she has seen time and time again. The secretive, the exotic, the bully, the hero, the completely useless fool. These things she knew and understood. The customs, those were stranger still. Banal laws the even some town guards break upheld to within an inch of skin while a woman attacked and helpless has her pleas ignored. Never seen in the streets of Gynk this behavior, nor the varied islands she had traveled, nor the cold halls of her forgotten village, Harisa, not Kjelti but not quite Karrasian.
Dark eyes, swirls of hazel and chestnut, like rare tigers-eye-gems scan the distant horizon for passing ships and contemplate. "What would you do if a ship did come?" Ren speaks to herself to break the silence more than answer the question. Shipwrecked and uncertain, in debt and out. At odds with her own thoughts, the morals she was once taught and the codes she now follows.
Smiling wistfully she lays back on the sand watching as stars come out. Recalling the nights before with some fondness. Intimate moments at hot springs. Dark figures like ghosts who haunt the living. The vibrant pulse of life as relationships twist and twine around her. The gypsy, the wolf, the mystery. Ahh life! The chaos and uncertainty this island rarely seems to know. To watch and measure conversations. To weight words as if they were coin. Mull over motives even while her mind relaxes in a haze of drink and the comfort of a warm body nearby.
Sitting up, hugging arms around her thin form, hands resting on narrow hips as she draws up her legs, locking a foot under one knee looking out at the now dark water. For a moment she feels the emptiness of the island around her. No tight holds, no press of bodies, none of the near claustrophobic closeness she had come to find soothing upon the ships. "Life is always different and the same." She smiles to herself as she recalls the words of a dear friend. At the thought she scans the horizon once more, if she washed up upon the shore... Ren sighs, shakes her head, stands with a jerk and with a frustrated sound pulls her boots on.
Back through the sand, back to civilization, there is no time here for dark thoughts of what could be or has been. There is work to do. It is the first of Tanos after all and spring only lasts so long.
Last edited by Brighteyes
on Wed Mar 02, 2011 7:27 am, edited 1 time in total.