A warm morning.
Nothing new or interesting was on the horizon.
A woman with midnight hair watched the shores of the ocean below her, basking in the warm breeze that drafted from below her position on the cliff side
She inhaled. The sweet scent of grass was in the air and she could taste the saltiness of the ocean foam. Holding out her arms, she fell to the moist dirt, stretching out like a lazy dark brown and grey cloak was covered in wet earth, but she payed it no mind. She was tired of the garb and she was tired of waiting low.
There was nothing to do.
She was beginning to miss the constant need for heroes when mass chaos wrought over their lands. All she did now in her spare time was watch the undulating waves crash against the gritty sand.
"This is boring", she thought, bitterly. After a few moments, the lady rose and stretched once more. Time to return to the little shack that she called home in the woods.
As she began to depart, the air rose once more, rushing through her garbs and tasseling her already mused hair.
"!..."
In a frenzied whirlwind, she spun around and gazed off into the distance. A small, mischievous smiled graced her supple features. Her red streak markings under her eyes began to glow, and her eyes sparkled with liveliness. The sensation was faint, but it promised her adventure.
"The smell of Cedar Atlas in the West..." she crooned sweetly, almost near borderline dreamily. All that was ever smelt in the direction of the West was ash and the lingering scents of storms. There, in that forbidden direction, inhabited the Dragon Riders.
Her small smile morphed into a full on grin and she began to cackle. There was a shift on the horizon...
...and she would have to prepare.