08-18-2024, 11:57 PM
FAZIA
Fazia had left the mountain for a second time, unsure but hopeful. There is something different, though she cannot place it exactly - how strange, to know that you have changed but, having been yourself all your life, not even knowing how to quantify that change. It haunts her though she does not find the haunting unpleasant. A familiar and friendly ghost, someone roosting within her heart to show her the way.
This level of introspection does not sit well on her skin, she prefers to act over letting her thoughts bog her down. Feeling is one thing, but thinking? She is certain that has never done any good whatsoever.
So she must act, but how? When she does not even know where to begin?
Fazia finds herself by the river, naturally drawn to the flowing water, allowing the current to ground her as she wades into the chilly water. The scales along her legs protect her from the autumn bite - and she lowers her head to see if the afternoon waters reveal anything different in her reflection. The water isn’t still enough to see much - she’s little more than a red-purple blur. Even her silver and black eyes aren’t distinguishable until she lowers her head close enough that her nostrils breathe in the refreshing water.
She breathes it in for a few more moments before she snorts, adding a splash and ripples to the already disrupted surface, and raises her head - eyes turning now to the banks. Fazia could find her family - they’d know if something was different, surely? - but she hopes to see any face, familiar or not, as she begins to walk upriver. Even talking is preferable to being stuck with her thoughts going nowhere.
This level of introspection does not sit well on her skin, she prefers to act over letting her thoughts bog her down. Feeling is one thing, but thinking? She is certain that has never done any good whatsoever.
So she must act, but how? When she does not even know where to begin?
Fazia finds herself by the river, naturally drawn to the flowing water, allowing the current to ground her as she wades into the chilly water. The scales along her legs protect her from the autumn bite - and she lowers her head to see if the afternoon waters reveal anything different in her reflection. The water isn’t still enough to see much - she’s little more than a red-purple blur. Even her silver and black eyes aren’t distinguishable until she lowers her head close enough that her nostrils breathe in the refreshing water.
She breathes it in for a few more moments before she snorts, adding a splash and ripples to the already disrupted surface, and raises her head - eyes turning now to the banks. Fazia could find her family - they’d know if something was different, surely? - but she hopes to see any face, familiar or not, as she begins to walk upriver. Even talking is preferable to being stuck with her thoughts going nowhere.
for @Selaphiel