Post by Leithian on May 30, 2014 12:21:46 GMT
| crossing the rubicon | The sun beats down on Leithian, relentless and cruel in its heat, but she can't find it within herself to rue the weather. Not today. Today she's pushing her way through the undergrowth and she's not running from anything or anyone. She's not going to crawl back to human civilization, into their strange twisted cities and their slums, and try to scrape out a living. Maybe another day, she'll do that again, but not this day. She's going to see her people. And Leithian knows they aren't her tribe, they won't look at her and know her, but they're Dalish. They won't be hers, but they'll be right. The adults will have their vallaslin and the camp will carry the smell of creaking leather and ironbark being forged--the smoke from the campfires and the rustle of the halla as they graze. It makes her heart twist for what she has lost, for what she walked away from. There's no going back. There never is. And this place, too, Leithian knows isn't really for her. It's just a memory she's allowed to hold for a moment before setting it aside. That was the price of doing what was right: never going home. Leithian draws to the edge of the camp, the posted guards on the peripheral of her vision, and steps into view. She holds her dahl'amythal staff in plain sight, a token of her identity, and clears her throat. "I am the Keeper of Clan Misnan," she says. "It is good to see other Dalish in this forsaken country." ISIDORA |
LAIKA OF GS!