O C E A N E
Hath in her veins,
to beat and run,
the glad indomitable sea,
the strong white sun.
to beat and run,
the glad indomitable sea,
the strong white sun.
The rapids, angry and tumultuous, purge themselves into the dark and churning sea. Sequestered on the westernmost shore of Beqanna where the River becomes the briny deep, Oceane peers into the distant horizon. There are no sounds to be heard over the roar of frothing water, and no thoughts save for her impressions of the horizon's impressive beauty find hold in her mind over the din, either. The white noise relaxes her, settling comfortably in her fluttering ears and pouring into her previously-tensed muscles.
Hours pass with only the occasional shift of her weight from one side to the other, from one cocked hip to the other. She watches as the sky grows dark, first orange and then lavender, over the endlessly seething ocean and resists the urge to unfurl her wings and fly out over the massive expanse of water until —
Until when? Or what?
The itch to wander burns in her legs and in the thick sinew of her wings where they collide with her shoulders. She extends them wide, reveling in the salted breeze of the sea as it sweeps lovingly through opaline feathers. Any sunlight that remains dances against them, shimmering a reflection against the rocks of the riverbed and the silt that makes up the ocean's shore.
It's with one massive undulation of those balefire wings that Oceane nearly ascends from her station, but at the last moment her ears instinctively react to a sound behind her. They swizzle backwards, followed by a quick pivot of her opaline bodice until she comes to face, her wings still unfurled, whoever had happened upon her before she'd departed on her adventure.
@[savage] and any | "WORDS"
Hours pass with only the occasional shift of her weight from one side to the other, from one cocked hip to the other. She watches as the sky grows dark, first orange and then lavender, over the endlessly seething ocean and resists the urge to unfurl her wings and fly out over the massive expanse of water until —
Until when? Or what?
The itch to wander burns in her legs and in the thick sinew of her wings where they collide with her shoulders. She extends them wide, reveling in the salted breeze of the sea as it sweeps lovingly through opaline feathers. Any sunlight that remains dances against them, shimmering a reflection against the rocks of the riverbed and the silt that makes up the ocean's shore.
It's with one massive undulation of those balefire wings that Oceane nearly ascends from her station, but at the last moment her ears instinctively react to a sound behind her. They swizzle backwards, followed by a quick pivot of her opaline bodice until she comes to face, her wings still unfurled, whoever had happened upon her before she'd departed on her adventure.
neamrel / thedayofshadow
i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by
and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by