08-16-2019, 07:21 PM
On some level, probably long before she could recall, there’d been some type of fracture, some type of trauma that had never quite sealed itself. A part of her had begun to believe that it was just her imagination or her needless worry that was stifling and snuffing the life out of her. She’d harbored hope, that somehow, someway it would be mendable - whether it be through leadership, love, or family the gap could be fixed. And it did, but never quite to capacity and it was enough to leave her unsettled and remorseful. That miniscule emptiness she had still felt was like a thorn in her side; unreachable even with the greatest flexibility. So she had turned in any direction other than north and left Nerine and all of Beqanna behind her.
It felt cliche and unpoetic, but she could only hope that one day her family would understand why she had done it.
Yesterday, Breckin finally began to realize how long she had been gone and just how stupid and selfish her journey had become. Leilan had come with her for a time, be even he had grown tired of the separation between them and their friends and children and had returned to them before she was ready. He’d been patient - he always was with her - and allowed her to fumble around aimlessly, looking for answers that never to reveal themselves or simply didn’t exist at all. Now she’s sure that he realized this a long time ago, and was why he had kindly departed and let her be with her incessant wandering and searching.
Today she is still unsettled, and still unable to shake the feeling of something missing or forgotten. But now, if she was going to stay unsettled and broken, then she would be unsettled and broken with her family and friends and the only home she’d ever really known.
With the serpentine river rolling past her left shoulder, her dark eyes searched lazily for a good crossing point. The wind jarred her mane, provoking the shells and sea glass tucked neatly there to sing softly in her ear. The blue feather there too twirled as if dancing in response to the steady pace of her footfalls and the music of her trinkets. She is somewhat underweight now with the sweaty, dust stained coat of a vagabond, but below the grime the same collection of black dots are posted against her white.
For a moment she wonders how many spots she has, or how many times others that she had known might’ve wanted to count them. The thought makes her smile wistfully; half a smile for humor and half a smile for getting lost in favored memories. But altogether, it was the smile of a girl wondering if she would ever know the answer.
@[Ivar] };]
It felt cliche and unpoetic, but she could only hope that one day her family would understand why she had done it.
Yesterday, Breckin finally began to realize how long she had been gone and just how stupid and selfish her journey had become. Leilan had come with her for a time, be even he had grown tired of the separation between them and their friends and children and had returned to them before she was ready. He’d been patient - he always was with her - and allowed her to fumble around aimlessly, looking for answers that never to reveal themselves or simply didn’t exist at all. Now she’s sure that he realized this a long time ago, and was why he had kindly departed and let her be with her incessant wandering and searching.
Today she is still unsettled, and still unable to shake the feeling of something missing or forgotten. But now, if she was going to stay unsettled and broken, then she would be unsettled and broken with her family and friends and the only home she’d ever really known.
With the serpentine river rolling past her left shoulder, her dark eyes searched lazily for a good crossing point. The wind jarred her mane, provoking the shells and sea glass tucked neatly there to sing softly in her ear. The blue feather there too twirled as if dancing in response to the steady pace of her footfalls and the music of her trinkets. She is somewhat underweight now with the sweaty, dust stained coat of a vagabond, but below the grime the same collection of black dots are posted against her white.
For a moment she wonders how many spots she has, or how many times others that she had known might’ve wanted to count them. The thought makes her smile wistfully; half a smile for humor and half a smile for getting lost in favored memories. But altogether, it was the smile of a girl wondering if she would ever know the answer.
@[Ivar] };]