appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.

In a blink, their moment of peace was gone. Rezza should have expected it, should have known, should have been more wary. It was far too easy to slide into a life without war that she'd dared to hope just a little too much that it might actually be true. Then again, how does one expect a storm that moves realms, that sinks lands, that causes such chaos it cannot even be called a storm? How does one prepare? How does one even think to consider the possibility?

Rezza certainly hadn't, and in the moment it had been all she could do to survive and help those around her. They'd all made it out alive, surfacing at the river with nowhere else to go. Baltia was not inhabitable, and only one territory remained in Beqanna outside of their common lands. Rezza had no real interest in any of it, truthfully, though she knew she needed to. It was her job, after all. Tsi was still stick and for all Rezaa knows, dead. She'd yet to find Helice either. With the Baltian scattered, she felt useless and unmoored, and at the same time, free. What if she just disappeared?

A terrible, traitorous thought, but it crossed her mind anyway.

Instead she knew she would have to go to the Brilliant Pampas and see who was left, but she finds herself stalling, staying in the common lands, pretending that she'll gather information there and look for survivors while avoiding the Stratosians at all costs. She was a sitting duck out of water, with legs and fighting skills not suited to the land. Without a proper strategy in mind, and without the full desire to make one, Rezza finds herself wandering the banks of the river instead, hoping maybe an answer would come to her.