a humble start
Apr 15, 2021 14:29:11 GMT -5
Post by ↁee on Apr 15, 2021 14:29:11 GMT -5
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[attr="class","ayab-lyrics"]will you be the one for me?
[attr="class","ayab-tagged"]for anyone et all
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The sun began to yawn across the horizon, drawing with it prismatic skies—golds stretched into the softest of blue. The glacial figure of Magdalene was at a rest, her eyes turned towards the dawn chasing nightfall from its throne. It was simple machinations, though even Magdalene could not help but pause and take in the sight. Around her grew the symphony of birdsong, and the breeze woven into the foliage about her. It traced the earth, and summoned a small tempest of leaves, debris, and dust. [break][break]
Enough to strum ire from the heart of the pale wanderer. [break][break]
Her features found something of a grimace as she turned away from the bolstering gust. The plains spread out in all directions, surrounding her in its muted sea. Her homelands were incomparable to the wastes of the Wandering Place. Her heart yearned for brine on the air, and sand at her step. Though, it was quite clear, there would be nothing for her there along the Southern coast. Instead, the intrepid soul ventured beyond her sire’s reach, seeking out adventure, or something akin to it. Purpose? A silly notion, one better left for sprite-like colts, with their gangly limbs and bravado. Ambition was not a hunger to warm her belly, nor to goad her into some societal climb. She simply wished to live, to grow; to flourish and thrive without the fettering of her sire’s chains and influence. [break][break]
Magdalene drew in a breath, an exasperated sigh as she sought the tell-tale tangles of tree canopies. There lay one tree stand in the distance, and though it would not be the swiftest of sojourns, she set off towards it. With the Spring’s sun on the climb, she knew warmth would come with it. She would be better to set herself beneath some shade, than to broil with the coming midday sun. And, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to have shelter from another wayward bluster. [break][break]
The sun began to yawn across the horizon, drawing with it prismatic skies—golds stretched into the softest of blue. The glacial figure of Magdalene was at a rest, her eyes turned towards the dawn chasing nightfall from its throne. It was simple machinations, though even Magdalene could not help but pause and take in the sight. Around her grew the symphony of birdsong, and the breeze woven into the foliage about her. It traced the earth, and summoned a small tempest of leaves, debris, and dust. [break][break]
Enough to strum ire from the heart of the pale wanderer. [break][break]
Her features found something of a grimace as she turned away from the bolstering gust. The plains spread out in all directions, surrounding her in its muted sea. Her homelands were incomparable to the wastes of the Wandering Place. Her heart yearned for brine on the air, and sand at her step. Though, it was quite clear, there would be nothing for her there along the Southern coast. Instead, the intrepid soul ventured beyond her sire’s reach, seeking out adventure, or something akin to it. Purpose? A silly notion, one better left for sprite-like colts, with their gangly limbs and bravado. Ambition was not a hunger to warm her belly, nor to goad her into some societal climb. She simply wished to live, to grow; to flourish and thrive without the fettering of her sire’s chains and influence. [break][break]
Magdalene drew in a breath, an exasperated sigh as she sought the tell-tale tangles of tree canopies. There lay one tree stand in the distance, and though it would not be the swiftest of sojourns, she set off towards it. With the Spring’s sun on the climb, she knew warmth would come with it. She would be better to set herself beneath some shade, than to broil with the coming midday sun. And, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to have shelter from another wayward bluster. [break][break]
[break]magdalene of nowhere[break]two year old / hot blood / fourteen and three hands
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