i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
On the surface there is no pattern to the journey his feet take. From the moment he had taken shape on the beach, he had hardly paused to stand still. He has been to the northernmost territory many times in his young life. Today should be no different, but he is not here because of his mother. Not this time, as he had been so many times before.
If asked, he could give no true reason. There is an openness, a freedom here that is nearly impossible to find anywhere else. It is so different from the density of the Taigan forest, so bright and open in a way that is both unsettling and thrilling. With the shadows growing long as snow begins to flurry unhindered across the cliffs, he feels almost as if he could be the only one in existence.
Just he and the harpy eagle soaring distantly in the sky above.
He’s not quite sure how far he has gone before he pauses at the cliff’s edge to stare out across the choppy waves. The wind whips at his red locks, stinging his still lanky, slender frame. The angry, reddened skin where bone has begun to force its way through does not even dare bleed here. Either that, or it has frozen before it can even try.
Reave breathes deeply of the cold and piercing wind, allowing it to sting his lungs and send a shiver through his body. He’s not cold - not really - but there is something bracingly bone-chilling in that stiff breeze.
He understands now why his mother returns here time and again, despite what family they have remaining now dwelling in the warmth and safety of the more southern forest. And he wonders then, why it had been allowed to sit fallow for so long. The lightning woman who had stolen his mother’s stone corpse is nowhere to be found now. And perhaps that’s for the best.
She had been a poor guardian for this land, and he fully intends to tell her so the next time he sees her. If he ever sees her again.
reave
@[Leilan]
also open to anyone who might feel like replying