08-18-2010, 01:49 PM
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Serene Sands. 471.
Love never dies a natural death. Remember that. The words were on repeat, playing over and over in Nayru’s mind as hand over foot she felt her way towards the beach that lay past all the cliffs. The cow colored girl had skirted both Inferni and Phoenix Valley and had bee-lined for the mountains. Vaguely she remembered crossing them, months ago, when she first came to Dahlia de Mai, but she had yet to return to them. Daily the girl’s knowledge of the lands outside of Dahlia de Mai were growing, but she almost always returned to Conor’s home, her home too she supposed, and slept there. If sleep did not take her, which increasingly it did not, the girl stayed awake into the morning hours, reading, or trying to. Or she would find herself unable to concentrate and stared into space for hours. Her thoughts ran rampant then, and it was always a blessing when morning broke and she would continue her explorations of the lands outside of Dahlia de Mai. At least then she barely had to think.
Love never dies a natural death. Remember that. For weeks she had been able to push any thought of the white dream lady from her mind. The dreams in which the woman had appeared seemed just that now, only dreams that Nayru should have been free to forget. Even the time the woman had appeared to her during her waking life, for the short moment, had been banished to some deeper compartment of her brain, not meant to be dug up. Yet now the only words Nayru could remember the lady speaking to her were conjured up, over and over again. As Nayru descended the ravine to the sands below she tried to think of other things the older white wolf had told her, but nothing came to mind and Nayru was left only to muse over the continual quote. If it had ever meant anything at all.
Reaching the beaches below, Nayru looked up the steep side of the ravine she had just scaled. The southern cliffs of the mountains, reaching down the warm sands, reminded Nayru of Nereid in Dahlia de Mai, but on a grander and more breathtaking scale. Feeling accomplished the girl settled herself into the sand, cross legged and tired, crimson eyes to the ocean. “Love never dies a natural death.” Her own soft, melodic voice spoke the words, but they were drowned out by the rushing waves against the beach. How nice it seemed then, that her thoughts, spoken out loud or kept silent, could be smothered by that sound. The ocean, its power and beauty incomparable, demanded attention and slowly Nayru let the words of a ghost die, waiting to be resurrected at a later point.
Love never dies a natural death. Remember that. The words were on repeat, playing over and over in Nayru’s mind as hand over foot she felt her way towards the beach that lay past all the cliffs. The cow colored girl had skirted both Inferni and Phoenix Valley and had bee-lined for the mountains. Vaguely she remembered crossing them, months ago, when she first came to Dahlia de Mai, but she had yet to return to them. Daily the girl’s knowledge of the lands outside of Dahlia de Mai were growing, but she almost always returned to Conor’s home, her home too she supposed, and slept there. If sleep did not take her, which increasingly it did not, the girl stayed awake into the morning hours, reading, or trying to. Or she would find herself unable to concentrate and stared into space for hours. Her thoughts ran rampant then, and it was always a blessing when morning broke and she would continue her explorations of the lands outside of Dahlia de Mai. At least then she barely had to think.
Love never dies a natural death. Remember that. For weeks she had been able to push any thought of the white dream lady from her mind. The dreams in which the woman had appeared seemed just that now, only dreams that Nayru should have been free to forget. Even the time the woman had appeared to her during her waking life, for the short moment, had been banished to some deeper compartment of her brain, not meant to be dug up. Yet now the only words Nayru could remember the lady speaking to her were conjured up, over and over again. As Nayru descended the ravine to the sands below she tried to think of other things the older white wolf had told her, but nothing came to mind and Nayru was left only to muse over the continual quote. If it had ever meant anything at all.
Reaching the beaches below, Nayru looked up the steep side of the ravine she had just scaled. The southern cliffs of the mountains, reaching down the warm sands, reminded Nayru of Nereid in Dahlia de Mai, but on a grander and more breathtaking scale. Feeling accomplished the girl settled herself into the sand, cross legged and tired, crimson eyes to the ocean. “Love never dies a natural death.” Her own soft, melodic voice spoke the words, but they were drowned out by the rushing waves against the beach. How nice it seemed then, that her thoughts, spoken out loud or kept silent, could be smothered by that sound. The ocean, its power and beauty incomparable, demanded attention and slowly Nayru let the words of a ghost die, waiting to be resurrected at a later point.
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