-
Dune-Grass
Softly, the water lapped up onto the shore with the peace of heaven. The beach was rocky, with small stones that were smoothed by the relentless passion of the sea pushed up against the dunes. Small patches of sand were visible, where the sea had managed to never drop its plunder, but rather leave it bare and open. Upon the dunes themselves tough seashore grasses were rife, with the stalks baring to the sky in all of their pale green glory. Some had flowers that dared to survive in this salty air, and some had simple brown and dried stalks. What was common amongst them, however, was the dryness of their bodies, as if they could easily be crushed by a single hand - or the toss of one of those proud stones. They rattled together when the breeze fled from the sea up towards the land, and sometimes then they did break. Because of this, behind the dune where the exposed hill side was, grasses lay in a mass grave, like a battlefield barely ended.
Upon this shoreline a creature walked; a black silhouette against the stark white sky. She was feathered from head to knee, with rumpled and leather-like skin making up that below her wrists and knees. Her feet and hands were wicked claws, and upon her face was a mighty beak. Two dark eyes stared out from beyond the dark feathers, and all she wore aside from these was a simple tunic, onto which was attached a belt and from there an assortment of weapons and goods. Across the sand and stones she strode, eyes darting around, going from land to sea to sky, land to sea to sky, land to sea to sky.
Watching. Waiting.
But she was alone. For once, she was alone. And she was loving every single moment of it.
Slowly she lowered the hand that had been held to her chest, with the deep grey claws digging into the flesh of her palm. Blinking, she looked down and started at the small blue stone there, that was still pulsating with an eerie blue light, but that which was fading. Still, she walked, eager to keep moving against this beach and to not be stuck anywhere for some time. Movement was good also, for it kept her active and it meant that anyone who could trace her teleportation would be confused as she would not be at the point of entry. She also moved for the simple reason of wanting to remain alone, and strangers who saw her walking might not wish to join her.
Not that there was many strangers on this wild beach, with its mighty breeze that played with the plumage of her crown, and made the dune-grass whistle with a harmless melody. Nay, she had quite deliberately chosen this place where she had been but once before upon first reaching this land - before Vitruvion was ever in her her life. Before apprenticing with the dwarf baker Skra. Before anything had ever happened, and she had become steward of a mighty business empire and followed by a constant group of three irritating guards.
It was said it was for her own protection, but Stare knew she could defend herself enough. Vitruvion, her employer and god, had left her his world in keeping until he returned. His dearest half-sister had gone missing and the world was on shaky territory. Thus, panicking and wishing to protect his most precious possession he had left his guards with her, telling them to keep an eye on her day and night whilst he was distracted. He had not paid heed to her protestations, but rather issued orders and asked her listen. Told her what was, and shaken his head. No, nothing she could say would change his mind. No, she would have to live a claustrophobic forced life whilst he searched for his sister.
It had all gotten too much. Thus, Stare had waited for a single opportunity when the guards were distracted, as well as Vitruvion himself. She had used her stone to teleport here, to this shore and walked - far and long.
Her breath was passionate, but her heart rate began to settle as the light from the marble did. For it seemed they had not followed her here, and she was safe. She was alone.
Peace.
-
The beach was an excellent place to get drunk, since nobody stopped to question the lonely woman drinking by herself, sat on the sand with a long, muscular tail trailing just behind her, carving shapes into the sand with every single twitch and muscle adjustment. It was a lonely, unfulfilling life that Keeara lived, truly it didn't have much substance or reason to it. To most people she met, or even briefly locked eyes with, she probably seemed like potentially the most pathetic person around, but that was fine with her. She had no time to concern herself with the opinions of the sheep, of the followers and of the weak. These were all people that her old bandit tribe would have plundered and left with nothing anyway, so who was she to concern herself with their opinions? Chances were she'd wronged quite a few of these people in the past.
The sand was fine and soft where she sat, watching the waves lick and roll at the shoreline, nursing a drink in her right hand as the fingers of her left hand curled through the fine grains of sand, picking out larger pebbles and rolling them through her grip. It was a great day, finally the rain that seemed to have been following her had ceased for now, though it still left her without purpose.
But, when she looked back at life, she supposed that she'd always lacked a true purpose. She'd drifted from one place to another her whole life, a reactive person, moving whenever she could no longer stay where she was.
But still, she was nobody important. The abused daughter of a traveler, an ex-bandit and a washed up adventurer, doing jobs and quests for coin to spend on cheap booze and cheap thrills. Certainly, there could be no gods out there that would be pleased by her lifestyle, or that would support it. That was if she even believed in gods. And Keeara wasn't sure she did. What deity watched over a world as pathetic as this one? With races that struggled and fought one another, that pursued meaningless things? What deity would watch over somebody as pathetic as herself?
She was alone and that was all that would ever matter...
-
Alone. Peace.
Of course, perfection never lasts. That is part of the rule of beauty - that it fades over time. Like a tree losing its leaves in winter paradise must fade, a utopia must have it's revolution to be renewed for the next generation. Winter snows and freeze will come; but only for the tree to bud again next year. Then beauty, perfection - they will rise once more, in one great circle.
Stare hoped, dearly, one day she might achieve bliss. Yet today was apparently not that day.
As she slowed her pace, walking on those fine sands with the blue light from the marble now nothing but a dim flame a thousand metres in the distance on a clear day, the world changed. Slowly she lifted her eyes up, hearing the call of gulls upon the wind and the rush of waves on the sand. She blinked and drank in the horizon, as far as it stretched beyond the natural curve of the bay and took steps forwards, one after the other. Steadily, until -
A figure appeared in the distance. Tall, elegant ... A shadow that had a strange silhouette.
Coming to a halt Stare paused, her eyes widening slightly at the prospect of meeting someone on this lonely path. At once her ideas of a plain, peaceful walk were shattered, hope ripped from her chest violently like a tree felled by an axe. Eyes became downcast in expression, arms fell to her sides and the gulls became irritants more than just simple sounds of nature.
She was not ... Alone..
And this creature was still walking towards her.
Large and curious looking, the kenku saw that it was not humanoid. Rather, like her, it seemed to be of some animalistic featuring, with a long reptilian form and ... was that a tail being dragged behind? Though she could still not see it quite clearly, as it was vast in the distance, Stare felt herself pausing in all thought and direction.
What was she to do now, that her peace had gone? How was she to act with this unexpected event, and an alteration in her ideals of how the day would go? Was this creature here for her? Would it attack, would it simply walk on by?
Her beak parted and she stayed absolutely still as the creature kept walking towards her, under the bright yellow sun, along the shore where the salty sea licked at your feet.
