A token for the Lady
08-31-2020, 03:40 PM
It was a short swim from the Isle to the Mangroves, and his body appreciated the exercise. No matter how big the island of Daager was, it still felt as though he had not a chance to truly break free. To exercise his limbs and work his muscles. He took the swim at full speed, cutting through the water until his legs found dry ground. Pausing a moment to shake out his coat, he glanced around him in search of inspiration.
It was customary to give a lover a gift in appreciation of them, and all that they had shared. He did not know how long Deathbelle intended to stay, but she had made it clear from the get-go that she had obligations elsewhere. He would ensure she could take home a momentum to remember their time together by.
He stepped lightly on the sandy terrain, moving until the softer, spongier texture of grass was beneath him. He found a small stream, and washed away some of the salt and sand that clung to him. It felt good for it to be free of the cracks and spaces between his toes.
Lifting his head skyward, he took in the scents around him. He could smell trees and life. The scent of herbs, and honey. The wildflowers that had taken root across the meads before the Mangroves was clearly a good place for bees to thrive. One such creature fluttered past his nose, curious at the bright colors of his coat. Once it had assured itself he was no flower, it left again.
He caught the scent of a wolf next. The first time he would have seen another, other than Deathbelle, since his memories had faded from him. He knew that this was not home, the scene and scents were wrong and unfamiliar, through he could place little more than that. There would be no risk of running into a wolf he was supposed to know. With that in mind, the blank-faced wolf followed his nose, moving towards the source of the scent. He saw no harm in getting to know the locals.
WC: 353
It was customary to give a lover a gift in appreciation of them, and all that they had shared. He did not know how long Deathbelle intended to stay, but she had made it clear from the get-go that she had obligations elsewhere. He would ensure she could take home a momentum to remember their time together by.
He stepped lightly on the sandy terrain, moving until the softer, spongier texture of grass was beneath him. He found a small stream, and washed away some of the salt and sand that clung to him. It felt good for it to be free of the cracks and spaces between his toes.
Lifting his head skyward, he took in the scents around him. He could smell trees and life. The scent of herbs, and honey. The wildflowers that had taken root across the meads before the Mangroves was clearly a good place for bees to thrive. One such creature fluttered past his nose, curious at the bright colors of his coat. Once it had assured itself he was no flower, it left again.
He caught the scent of a wolf next. The first time he would have seen another, other than Deathbelle, since his memories had faded from him. He knew that this was not home, the scene and scents were wrong and unfamiliar, through he could place little more than that. There would be no risk of running into a wolf he was supposed to know. With that in mind, the blank-faced wolf followed his nose, moving towards the source of the scent. He saw no harm in getting to know the locals.
WC: 353
