Thoughts
Posted: Wed Mar 01, 2006 4:11 am
You are very young to be an Elder.
A soft rumbling of a coming storm sounded over the usually silent isle of Tol Vanima. On the eastern shore, dark waves threw themselves against the land in a choppy manner, intensified by a cold breeze that blew in from the sea. Birds flew farther inland, crying to their mates to find shelter, and quickly.
On the point of the island that reached farthest east, a long figure stands, an elfess- cloaked in grey and soon drenched by the spray of the sea. But the young face doesn't turn away, nor do her staring bluegreen eyes blink as she gazes eastward, a longing look over her features. Her right hand lays against her chest, fingering slowly a small icebird amulet. She doesn't seem to notice the flashes of lightning that brigten the sky before her, nor the chilling rains that begin to fall and cause her hair to stick to her face. She seemed almost to be looking at something on the eastern horizon, though there was nothing to be seen buy clouds and water, and a fading light.
For the first time since she had arrived to these lands, Isilwen felt as though she were in danger, one she would not so easily be able to free herself from. So much had happened, and was happening still, and something told her that it all tied together somehow. She let out a long slow sigh, still oblivious to the storm as it came closer, the waves of the sea coming up to her knees now.
Shandariel had tried to convince her that she was not alone. Was that true? Had she truly made a place for herself here? She shook her head briefly, unable to believe that. Home hadn't been something she allowed herself to enjoy for over a century. Her eyes flickered with a flash of lightning.
As the winds began to pick up, she finally admitted, silently, and to herself, that she didn't know what to do.
((confused? good
so i was bored))
A soft rumbling of a coming storm sounded over the usually silent isle of Tol Vanima. On the eastern shore, dark waves threw themselves against the land in a choppy manner, intensified by a cold breeze that blew in from the sea. Birds flew farther inland, crying to their mates to find shelter, and quickly.
On the point of the island that reached farthest east, a long figure stands, an elfess- cloaked in grey and soon drenched by the spray of the sea. But the young face doesn't turn away, nor do her staring bluegreen eyes blink as she gazes eastward, a longing look over her features. Her right hand lays against her chest, fingering slowly a small icebird amulet. She doesn't seem to notice the flashes of lightning that brigten the sky before her, nor the chilling rains that begin to fall and cause her hair to stick to her face. She seemed almost to be looking at something on the eastern horizon, though there was nothing to be seen buy clouds and water, and a fading light.
For the first time since she had arrived to these lands, Isilwen felt as though she were in danger, one she would not so easily be able to free herself from. So much had happened, and was happening still, and something told her that it all tied together somehow. She let out a long slow sigh, still oblivious to the storm as it came closer, the waves of the sea coming up to her knees now.
Shandariel had tried to convince her that she was not alone. Was that true? Had she truly made a place for herself here? She shook her head briefly, unable to believe that. Home hadn't been something she allowed herself to enjoy for over a century. Her eyes flickered with a flash of lightning.
As the winds began to pick up, she finally admitted, silently, and to herself, that she didn't know what to do.
((confused? good
so i was bored))