MAEA
A deep intake of air, and a slow, hovering sigh. Lingering, in that the steam emitted from her lungs hovers like a miniature cloud before her, forcing Maea to move through this small piece herself as she walks down the street and leave it behind. Every breath is a small rebirth and she is glad of it. Happy to know that she is leaving the dark and the ugly in the past and moving on into something new and bright and beautiful.
Dazed and giddy, she roamed the meandering streets of the Citadel with the awed look of a child gone astray in a toy-shop. Pale eyes roam hungrily from towering buildings to snow-capped roofs, following the ever-present smoke rising from chimneys into a pale blue sky until the light of the sun grew so blinding she had to blink. Narrow alleys branched off to new unknowns from every side of this main street. Shops, houses and mercantiles fought for her attention with the call of vendors on every corner. Beckoning. Urging her to explore further. The lifeforce of this place was strong, a beating heart defying the ice and the cold, and she reveled in the existence of it.
She could have been born for this place. Light bounced off her white hair and made it glisten and shimmer as she turned her head back and forth, and though rosy from the chill air, her skin looked almost translucent. Winter was becoming for the slender female, always had been, and never more so than in this place where Deepfrost had made its home. Maea drew stares where she passed, and first she thought it might be because of her unusual coloring. But soon it dawned on her that it was more likely due to the scant amount of clothes she wore. While everyone else had bundled up in thick furs and heavy wool, she remained untouched by the cold in just a simple linen dress, covered by nothing more than a ragged black shawl. Smiling to herself, Maea sent yet another prayer to Ludo, thanking it for the gift. It had already saved her life once and proved beyond useful in a place like this.
Humming to herself, a drowzy tune of languid LongHeat nights where the moon roamed high on the night sky, she approached a stall and began to look over the content. Pretty baubles were not in great supply it seemed, but these finely crafted weapons were better suited for what she had in mind. Small daggers lay side by side with horn bows, war axes and leathal looking swords and spears. Under the suspicious glare of the vendor she examined them, lost in consideration and with only half a thought spared for the people moving around her.
Dazed and giddy, she roamed the meandering streets of the Citadel with the awed look of a child gone astray in a toy-shop. Pale eyes roam hungrily from towering buildings to snow-capped roofs, following the ever-present smoke rising from chimneys into a pale blue sky until the light of the sun grew so blinding she had to blink. Narrow alleys branched off to new unknowns from every side of this main street. Shops, houses and mercantiles fought for her attention with the call of vendors on every corner. Beckoning. Urging her to explore further. The lifeforce of this place was strong, a beating heart defying the ice and the cold, and she reveled in the existence of it.
She could have been born for this place. Light bounced off her white hair and made it glisten and shimmer as she turned her head back and forth, and though rosy from the chill air, her skin looked almost translucent. Winter was becoming for the slender female, always had been, and never more so than in this place where Deepfrost had made its home. Maea drew stares where she passed, and first she thought it might be because of her unusual coloring. But soon it dawned on her that it was more likely due to the scant amount of clothes she wore. While everyone else had bundled up in thick furs and heavy wool, she remained untouched by the cold in just a simple linen dress, covered by nothing more than a ragged black shawl. Smiling to herself, Maea sent yet another prayer to Ludo, thanking it for the gift. It had already saved her life once and proved beyond useful in a place like this.
Humming to herself, a drowzy tune of languid LongHeat nights where the moon roamed high on the night sky, she approached a stall and began to look over the content. Pretty baubles were not in great supply it seemed, but these finely crafted weapons were better suited for what she had in mind. Small daggers lay side by side with horn bows, war axes and leathal looking swords and spears. Under the suspicious glare of the vendor she examined them, lost in consideration and with only half a thought spared for the people moving around her.
