10-10-2022, 02:14 AM
Ryatah
WHEN I WAS SHIPWRECKED I THOUGHT OF YOU
IN THE CRACKS OF LIGHT I DREAMED OF YOU
The Pampas is nothing like she is used to, but she finds that it has grown on her. She had grown accustomed to mountains—the mountains that sheltered the valley, the enormous hills that bordered the dale, and of course the somewhat unforgiving terrain of Hyaline. She tries not to think about the fact that all of those places are gone; that every place she has ever felt connected to has fallen into nothing, and she tries even harder to smother the spark of hope that lives inside of her chest that says there is a chance that one of them could come back.
The fact that she stands on land that not long ago had been submerged beneath the sea makes it all the more difficult to extinguish that spark, but for the sake of her sanity she forces herself to accept that they are gone.
Perhaps the fact that there are no mountains or great hills in sight makes it easier to forget what she has lost.
Instead, she readily spends her days meandering the wildflower meadows, appreciating the way they lay scattered like brightly colored stars across a sky of green. The world has once more settled into a quiet rhythm now that the storms had passed and what was left standing was able to recover, though she cannot say the same for society.
Everything was eerily quiet, and too much quiet often led to unrest and poor decisions on her part.
It’s why when her eyes land on a vaguely familiar figure that she feels her heart jump in her chest, a strange kind of eagerness flickering briefly in her dark eyes. She does not think she has ever spoken to him—is certain she would remember if she had—but she recognizes the once-king of Pangea, and the simple fact that she could tie him to something that was now lost was enough for him to capture her interest.
“Hello,” she greets him kindly after drawing close enough to where he stands, her own body backlit by the afternoon summer sun, haloing herself in a golden glow. “I don’t think we’ve met before, have we? My name is Ryatah.”
The fact that she stands on land that not long ago had been submerged beneath the sea makes it all the more difficult to extinguish that spark, but for the sake of her sanity she forces herself to accept that they are gone.
Perhaps the fact that there are no mountains or great hills in sight makes it easier to forget what she has lost.
Instead, she readily spends her days meandering the wildflower meadows, appreciating the way they lay scattered like brightly colored stars across a sky of green. The world has once more settled into a quiet rhythm now that the storms had passed and what was left standing was able to recover, though she cannot say the same for society.
Everything was eerily quiet, and too much quiet often led to unrest and poor decisions on her part.
It’s why when her eyes land on a vaguely familiar figure that she feels her heart jump in her chest, a strange kind of eagerness flickering briefly in her dark eyes. She does not think she has ever spoken to him—is certain she would remember if she had—but she recognizes the once-king of Pangea, and the simple fact that she could tie him to something that was now lost was enough for him to capture her interest.
“Hello,” she greets him kindly after drawing close enough to where he stands, her own body backlit by the afternoon summer sun, haloing herself in a golden glow. “I don’t think we’ve met before, have we? My name is Ryatah.”
AND IT WAS REAL ENOUGH TO GET ME THROUGH —
BUT I SWEAR YOU WERE THERE
@litotes