
OOC :: Foredated to November 2nd.
Words→ 326
Words→ 326
The St. Croix highlands were cold. Not cold enough for snow flurries, or cold enough to stay cooped up inside, but cold enough that she appreciated her new cloak. Falcon rubbed her shoulders through the garment, the caribou fur warm against her back. The hood, lined with white hare fur, was pushed back over her shoulders. It didn’t quite match the shawl her mother had given her after her first shift, but it was close enough. More importantly, it still smelled like Rowan.
Falcon pressed the edge of the cloak to her nose and breathed in deeply. It would keep her warm until her mother returned in mid-spring, and then every year thereafter until she—or the cloak—was no more.
The Elkenfrey shook her head to clear her thoughts; her mother had only been gone a few days and she already missed her. Glancing up at the blue-gray sky, she continued her trek across the highlands. A large, black and white osprey flew overhead toward the coast, its feathers shining in the afternoon sun, and Falcon followed it until she could see the sea stacks that dotted the bay.
What would it be like to climb them?
Falcon sat down in the cool, green grass and resolved to discover that another day when the tide was lower. She brushed the dirt off her pale, linen skirt and frowned at the loose strings under her fingertips. The sailcloth was already old when the hybrid first got it, and it was only getting older. Maybe she’d ask Baelish to keep an eye out for a new skirt for her; she could commandeer the D’Acidic household for a few hours and make them all dinner for his trouble.
Falcon looked up at the sky again and began to sing an old sailor's tune she'd learned in Portland. "The tide goes out, the tide comes in, and then we sail away again..."