Just starting out on this one... We'll see how it progresses, eh? ^_^
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The world could look so small if one climbed high enough.
This fact was what Sierra found herself pondering upon the cliff edge of one of the Norn Peaks. The farther one distanced oneself from reality, the more fragile life seemed, the more one felt like one could hold their entire existence in the palm of a hand. The Dragoon stretched one arm before her, underside of her hand-paw cradled over the horizon. From her eye level, it would seem like she held the earth in space, choosing to turn it at her will. Night to day, day to night. Perhaps that was the main reason she adored the atmosphere here, where the clouds drifted through her mane and the sun warmed her back and forehead. From this high an elevation, she felt as if she were in control of her life, if only for a moment's time.
Slowly, though, Sierra's arm fell to its place at her side. Her claws found their typical place upon the hilt of one of the hooked daggers she wore at her hips. She drew the knife slowly, savoring the sound of steel against leather, the crisp ring of the blunt side of the weapon as it touched the cold mountain air. She closed her eyes, listening to the voice of the wind as it sang through the throats of the mountain that she stood upon, the eerie sound that hooted from the caves about her. A moment to cherish the peace that her soul felt in such a place, then the Dragoon whirled, flicking her dagger with the tuck and throw of her wrist. The blade wedged itself into one large rock, carving a soft petal from one spidery mountain flower.
Decades of practice had brought Sierra to this level, to sense all forms of life about her, no matter how minuscule, and target them without hesitation. Centuries had passed that she had served the Dragon Princess, protected her from all harm and bargained with the Order to pardon her renegade brother of all his sins. She'd lived through great wars and reformings, seen the face of the Mana Goddess herself in the form of a ghostly tree that hovered above the world as if it was never to exist there. Sierra had lived a life she'd never imagined living when she was young. This life, however adventurous and thrilling it seemed, was beginning to wear on her. Peace and comfort seemed like a goal that she could never accomplish, no matter how far she pushed herself. A dream that hung from the shifty cotton of a passing cloud, so real and visible, but clear out of her reach.
When Vandise sent Sierra to deliver messages to Drakonis, who lived upon these peaks, she'd always find herself stopping here. In this little outcropping of rock there was solace. The area was clear of life save for a few rock lilies and the occasional hawk, nothing to talk to her, nothing to touch her, nothing at all. Here in this little world on the side of the Norn Mountain, Sierra was in control of her own life. She could choose whether or not to react to the life that went on about her. In this little cliff, she was the controller of her destiny.
Moisture interrupted her contemplation. A few rain drops fell to glitter on the silver fur of her shoulder, their coldness enough to remind her of her current position. No matter how on top of the world Sierra felt at her mountain hideaway, she would never master control of the weather. She turned back to the horizon she'd cupped in one paw prior, to find that it was now thoroughly darkened with thick, black clouds. Sudden storms were typical in Fa'Diel, and this one seemed to have brewed itself out of no where. Brilliant, electric snakes slithered across the sky with a clap of thunder. This storm looked to be violent. Sierra cursed her lack of foresight, then began on her way to deliver the message Vandise had sent her with. She may just have to wait out the weather in the Wind Dragon's care tonight.
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The world could look so small if one climbed high enough.
This fact was what Sierra found herself pondering upon the cliff edge of one of the Norn Peaks. The farther one distanced oneself from reality, the more fragile life seemed, the more one felt like one could hold their entire existence in the palm of a hand. The Dragoon stretched one arm before her, underside of her hand-paw cradled over the horizon. From her eye level, it would seem like she held the earth in space, choosing to turn it at her will. Night to day, day to night. Perhaps that was the main reason she adored the atmosphere here, where the clouds drifted through her mane and the sun warmed her back and forehead. From this high an elevation, she felt as if she were in control of her life, if only for a moment's time.
Slowly, though, Sierra's arm fell to its place at her side. Her claws found their typical place upon the hilt of one of the hooked daggers she wore at her hips. She drew the knife slowly, savoring the sound of steel against leather, the crisp ring of the blunt side of the weapon as it touched the cold mountain air. She closed her eyes, listening to the voice of the wind as it sang through the throats of the mountain that she stood upon, the eerie sound that hooted from the caves about her. A moment to cherish the peace that her soul felt in such a place, then the Dragoon whirled, flicking her dagger with the tuck and throw of her wrist. The blade wedged itself into one large rock, carving a soft petal from one spidery mountain flower.
Decades of practice had brought Sierra to this level, to sense all forms of life about her, no matter how minuscule, and target them without hesitation. Centuries had passed that she had served the Dragon Princess, protected her from all harm and bargained with the Order to pardon her renegade brother of all his sins. She'd lived through great wars and reformings, seen the face of the Mana Goddess herself in the form of a ghostly tree that hovered above the world as if it was never to exist there. Sierra had lived a life she'd never imagined living when she was young. This life, however adventurous and thrilling it seemed, was beginning to wear on her. Peace and comfort seemed like a goal that she could never accomplish, no matter how far she pushed herself. A dream that hung from the shifty cotton of a passing cloud, so real and visible, but clear out of her reach.
When Vandise sent Sierra to deliver messages to Drakonis, who lived upon these peaks, she'd always find herself stopping here. In this little outcropping of rock there was solace. The area was clear of life save for a few rock lilies and the occasional hawk, nothing to talk to her, nothing to touch her, nothing at all. Here in this little world on the side of the Norn Mountain, Sierra was in control of her own life. She could choose whether or not to react to the life that went on about her. In this little cliff, she was the controller of her destiny.
Moisture interrupted her contemplation. A few rain drops fell to glitter on the silver fur of her shoulder, their coldness enough to remind her of her current position. No matter how on top of the world Sierra felt at her mountain hideaway, she would never master control of the weather. She turned back to the horizon she'd cupped in one paw prior, to find that it was now thoroughly darkened with thick, black clouds. Sudden storms were typical in Fa'Diel, and this one seemed to have brewed itself out of no where. Brilliant, electric snakes slithered across the sky with a clap of thunder. This storm looked to be violent. Sierra cursed her lack of foresight, then began on her way to deliver the message Vandise had sent her with. She may just have to wait out the weather in the Wind Dragon's care tonight.