TemaShika again, but more subtle, more Tema-centric. Please enjoy this attempt at a new style. :3


Pull

by

Redex



She knows the beauty of the desert.

It is a harsh one, gritty and rough, the beauty of pure instinct and survival. That which is sand can always be moved around, but be never made to completely disssapear. Sand is a black abyss at night, shadows within shadows as the sand dunes shift in the wind. The rasp of blowing grains against ancient stone that has been formed by these grains forever is a sort of calming hiss. The beauty of the desert is not a real beauty, it is not there for pleasure, it is simply something that happens to come along with what is nessisary.

She is learning the beauty of the forest.

It is a flourishing one, the beauty of effort rewarded and life renewed. That which is green is perpetual, dying but always being reborn, maybe not in the same form, but the essance stays the same. Forests are black trunks, rising up to a roof of shifting shapes and muted colors. The rustle and groan of trees as they blow in the wind and take up comfortable positions together is a sort of easy conversation. The beauty of the forest is a flourishing one, a beauty for beauty's sake, because it is nessisary.

She has seen the sunset that reflects in a rippling lake, reds purples and blues. She has seen the sunset that tinges red-orange rock vermillion.

She takes comfort the knowlege that no matter what happens, she knows her way home. She take comfort in the knowlege that she will get lost at some point, but someone will always point her on her way.

She loves the beauty of a quiet night nestled in a sand dune, the quiet camraderie as she sings softly to make Gaara feel better when he can't sleep and Kankuro's snores mix with the melody to make them all one, the way it's supposed to be.

She loves the beauty of a breezy afternoon in the sun, the cloud-shadows on the ground as they blow by, the sound of Shikamaru's laughter raising up suddenly within the grass-rustling and wind brushing through trees, sounds that mix to make a harmony.

Sometimes both are so beautiful she could cry.

She aches for the heart that is with her family, her house, her childhood, her memories.

She aches for the heart that is with her lover, her new friends, her acceptance, her possibilities.

She is torn.


Comment, Critique?