Post by sarine on Oct 28, 2008 19:19:20 GMT -5
The advent of change scented in the cool, stiff wind that blew down from the clouds and whirled its way over roofs, around corners, up streets and through side alleys. A dry wind. The kind that touched cold, but with little moisture in its caress. The kind that brought a whisper of warning from the heavens, unheard but for the low thrum of caution rippling beneath its brief kiss. A wind that sank through indeterminate fabrics, finding a way to chill to the bone and prompt a shiver. A wind that gently ruffled the skirts of the youth that stepped from the inn and out into the world...
She had slept long that first night. Slumber that had taken her into a world where time had no hold and so when she woke, Sarine found it in herself to be surprised at the shifting light of dusk that shone in the through the window above her bed. Throwing back the covers, she slid from the warmth and security of pillows and sheets, readying herself for the task that loomed ahead of her - adjusting.
It was not much later when she found her steps leading out of the inn and down the immediate road in a wandering, curious promenade only heightened by her sense of being completely alone. The faces around her were unwelcome, dead of life and it quickly spawned her contempt and her desire for a smile. The Seraphim hailed from a world where laughter and sighs of delight were the currency and the lack of anything in the expressions that came under the weight of her gaze was telling, in a remarkably snide way.
And it was not that she wanted for lack of attention. The pale woman drew glances wherever she passed. How could she not? Flawless features were framed by the thick, luscious curls that shone a deep, rich chestnut in the waning light and brought perfect contrast against the deep, almost black crimson of her dress. A miracle of fine tailoring, it wrapped her curves, flaring out from her hips to fall in elegant lines down to slender ankles. Her walk was a swaying perfection of easy, natural grace and in and of itself held signs of the ashen shadow of darkness that tracked everything that was Sarine.
She paused when she came to the end of the street. Her options were laid out clear before her - go left, go right, go straight. What if I want to go back? The thought slid into her mind quietly and was accepted with a swiftness that was alarming in every respect and left her feeling shaken for a moment. Dithering on the curb, fingers curled in on themselves, her smalls fist brought sharply to bear against her hips in a motion that spoke volumes of her frustration and apparent indecision.
She wished, oh how she wished, that she knew. That she had the knowledge that would make her course that much smoother, that much more navigable. But she did not. It bothered her, but it was the truth. Sarine finally admitted, quietly and under her breath, something she had never had to come to terms with before. "I need help."
She had slept long that first night. Slumber that had taken her into a world where time had no hold and so when she woke, Sarine found it in herself to be surprised at the shifting light of dusk that shone in the through the window above her bed. Throwing back the covers, she slid from the warmth and security of pillows and sheets, readying herself for the task that loomed ahead of her - adjusting.
It was not much later when she found her steps leading out of the inn and down the immediate road in a wandering, curious promenade only heightened by her sense of being completely alone. The faces around her were unwelcome, dead of life and it quickly spawned her contempt and her desire for a smile. The Seraphim hailed from a world where laughter and sighs of delight were the currency and the lack of anything in the expressions that came under the weight of her gaze was telling, in a remarkably snide way.
And it was not that she wanted for lack of attention. The pale woman drew glances wherever she passed. How could she not? Flawless features were framed by the thick, luscious curls that shone a deep, rich chestnut in the waning light and brought perfect contrast against the deep, almost black crimson of her dress. A miracle of fine tailoring, it wrapped her curves, flaring out from her hips to fall in elegant lines down to slender ankles. Her walk was a swaying perfection of easy, natural grace and in and of itself held signs of the ashen shadow of darkness that tracked everything that was Sarine.
She paused when she came to the end of the street. Her options were laid out clear before her - go left, go right, go straight. What if I want to go back? The thought slid into her mind quietly and was accepted with a swiftness that was alarming in every respect and left her feeling shaken for a moment. Dithering on the curb, fingers curled in on themselves, her smalls fist brought sharply to bear against her hips in a motion that spoke volumes of her frustration and apparent indecision.
She wished, oh how she wished, that she knew. That she had the knowledge that would make her course that much smoother, that much more navigable. But she did not. It bothered her, but it was the truth. Sarine finally admitted, quietly and under her breath, something she had never had to come to terms with before. "I need help."
' Bloody heck, two jobs and a BUNCH of kerfuffle later, and I'm back AGAIN.