Borders were of no consequence to Peregrine Jude. She flew through Beqanna as if the entire country was hers. In the time that she has wandered through here, she feels as if she has seen the world in its entirety. Today, she was observing the different territories. She might drop to the earth in one or the other, testing out the scents and sights of places she may want to call home.
As she flies through the mountains (a place called Hyaline, though she did not care for her knowledge of names and leaders was nonexistent). Jude drops low, wings dipping in and out of air pockets. She does not pause here, just hovers long enough to pick up the clean and friendly scent of its inhabitants. Instead, she flaps her lavender wings powerfully, lifting her ballerina body toward the sun. She glides leisurely north, sharp eyes set purposefully on a dense forest.
The colors are what drew her. Summer surrounds Beqanna’s people with warm hands, but this region’s landscape appears unmoved by the season. Jude admits to herself that the perpetual autumn is enticing, that she may want to spend more time there because she loved the shadows and rotting leaves.
Jude lands just outside the wooded land. The edge of the forest whispers to her, each gust of wind shuffling leaves that summon her further in. Jude, oh Peregrine Jude . . . She whips her head to its highest point, pale purple gaze slit to its most suspicious position. In, she thinks, I must go in. She is almost hypnotized.
Step by step, the pale girl enters the dense forest. The sunlight disappears and a cool, coarse breeze tangles her thick curls. Jude shakes out her mane, tossing little curlettes over her eyes. She peers around, moving forward as if her body were not her own, the fall forest’s noose pulled taught around her neck.
@[Arthas]