It was like something out of a dream, with the hazy golden light and the oranges and reds of the leaves melding with the red of the floating river. The late-season flowers that Hadama picked almost seemed to glow amidst the ambience; white and yellow and red petals taking on an almost pearlescent sheen as the spray from the water settled on them.
It was a peaceful evening, one that would all-too-soon be nothing more than distant memory once the Family gained their foothold on the region. For the moment, however, there was only the quiet chuckle of the Cataract and the hum of sleepy insects near the end of day mingling with the dwindling songs of birds.
And the face in the Cataract.
As Noah stepped away, Hadama paused, looking to his friend and then to where Noah's gaze rested with sharp focus. The seaweed tangle stopped its drifting in spite of the current that continued to stream lazily past it, floating in place. A trick of the waterflow parted the strands of weed, revealing the hints of a face: a twist in the water outlining the curve of a young, feminine cheek; eyes that caught the light but lacked the definition of iris or pupil; a snub of a nose with a scattering of loose seeds floating by that might have been freckles. There was a sense that she was pretty but not truly beautiful, though finer details were harder to determine.
And as she looked longingly at Noah from within the water, a small stream of bubbles leaked from the corners of those almost-eyes, floating towards the surface of the Cataract and being carried away with the flow.
"Remi said there were lost spirits about," Hadama murmured quietly to his friend. "Is she...?"
It was a peaceful evening, one that would all-too-soon be nothing more than distant memory once the Family gained their foothold on the region. For the moment, however, there was only the quiet chuckle of the Cataract and the hum of sleepy insects near the end of day mingling with the dwindling songs of birds.
And the face in the Cataract.
As Noah stepped away, Hadama paused, looking to his friend and then to where Noah's gaze rested with sharp focus. The seaweed tangle stopped its drifting in spite of the current that continued to stream lazily past it, floating in place. A trick of the waterflow parted the strands of weed, revealing the hints of a face: a twist in the water outlining the curve of a young, feminine cheek; eyes that caught the light but lacked the definition of iris or pupil; a snub of a nose with a scattering of loose seeds floating by that might have been freckles. There was a sense that she was pretty but not truly beautiful, though finer details were harder to determine.
And as she looked longingly at Noah from within the water, a small stream of bubbles leaked from the corners of those almost-eyes, floating towards the surface of the Cataract and being carried away with the flow.
"Remi said there were lost spirits about," Hadama murmured quietly to his friend. "Is she...?"
