04-03-2016, 09:23 PM
Misra
The sun is warm and the air is brisk, its gentle caress a soothing comfort to the young female as she saunters quietly (and not altogether stealthily; experience draws her to err on the side of caution but her youth provokes error in her calculations). Her desperately precise steps still provoke the breaking of twigs and splitting of dried, burnt foliage that had remained dormant beneath the winter's snowfall, drawing more attention to her presence than she had hoped for. Her senses are suddenly overwhelmed with the scent of sulfur and ash, and for a moment, she recoils - her doe eyes study the uneasy terrain around her and with only a second of hesitation, her swift and slender legs carry her over the wreckage of war and she weaves effortlessly through the thick foliage.
Bleak rays of sunlight warm her to the core as she slows down, pausing to observe the destruction that lay before her. Though new life had begun to spring from the soot and ash, it was still a dismal sight - one that caused a pang of pain to clench around her fragile young heart. It was difficult to see such devastation when so much of the world was still painted in such bright displays of alluring beauty. There was still something inexplicably stunning about the winding, dying pieces of pine still left standing after the ravaging fire - something that spoke to the very depths of her soul. Rebirth and restore.
Breathlessly, she spreads her thick, shimmering plumage - their graying feathers catching the glorious gleam of sunlight from above as she flexes her wings at her side. She has grown, her figure no longer than of a child - though she was still young in many ways. With smooth, lithe and feminine curves, she was growing and developing into a beautiful creature of grace and sinewy muscle, though inexperience and innocence still painted her in a youthful glow. Her call echoes from the depths of her throat, bouncing along both the dying and thriving foliage that line the thick border of a land she had only heard of in soft murmurs and brief whispers.
She remembers his hushed, tired murmurs in the midst of his restless sleep, as she was curled up against him in the midst of a cool autumn evening. Time had come and gone, ebbing and flowing just as the restless ocean does, but he lingered on her mind. No longer tied to the boundaries of the silvery cove she had been raised behind (or perhaps, simply caring less for the consequences of being caught sneaking away), she sought her ursine companion in the only place she thought she might be able to find him.
The Chamber.
Bleak rays of sunlight warm her to the core as she slows down, pausing to observe the destruction that lay before her. Though new life had begun to spring from the soot and ash, it was still a dismal sight - one that caused a pang of pain to clench around her fragile young heart. It was difficult to see such devastation when so much of the world was still painted in such bright displays of alluring beauty. There was still something inexplicably stunning about the winding, dying pieces of pine still left standing after the ravaging fire - something that spoke to the very depths of her soul. Rebirth and restore.
Breathlessly, she spreads her thick, shimmering plumage - their graying feathers catching the glorious gleam of sunlight from above as she flexes her wings at her side. She has grown, her figure no longer than of a child - though she was still young in many ways. With smooth, lithe and feminine curves, she was growing and developing into a beautiful creature of grace and sinewy muscle, though inexperience and innocence still painted her in a youthful glow. Her call echoes from the depths of her throat, bouncing along both the dying and thriving foliage that line the thick border of a land she had only heard of in soft murmurs and brief whispers.
She remembers his hushed, tired murmurs in the midst of his restless sleep, as she was curled up against him in the midst of a cool autumn evening. Time had come and gone, ebbing and flowing just as the restless ocean does, but he lingered on her mind. No longer tied to the boundaries of the silvery cove she had been raised behind (or perhaps, simply caring less for the consequences of being caught sneaking away), she sought her ursine companion in the only place she thought she might be able to find him.
The Chamber.
she rules her life like a fine skylark
and wouldn't you love to love her?
and wouldn't you love to love her?
@[Siberian] @[Nymphetamine]