Ruieze Fields

Open fields and soft grass...
Ruieze stretches far in the midlands of Moladion, laced with streams that feed into Diveen and out of Asteraia at times. The fields are vast, filled with wildflowers and tall, soft grass; trees are sparse, as are rocks, but one can find small shrubs to hide amongst, and the grass itself. To the south of the fields, a Ruieze River widens, and the ground becomes sandy. There is a small, grassy island that can be reached from the banks, with water-birds often congregating on the island rather than the riverbanks.

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Baptized by Fire
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Character & HTML © Apollymi
I barely notice as anyone else comes near me, much less the little female that approaches. My eyes flick over her frame, the glance only giving me some semblance of something that could be called recognition, and my eyes are forced back. The wolf who is before me now looks a lot like one of Heyel's apprentices, but...could it really be? "You remind me of someone too." I say simply, as she finishes her sentence about the lake, I look back over the mirrored surface of the water, and my heart aches all over again. I do not want to focus on the familiarity of this right now, I cannot. It hurts too much and I only want to live for now. I bury the ghosts of the past. I wonder what had happened to the rest of the families and packs out there, but this is no different than any other day. I am tired, after nearly three years I have been dying every moment that passes. I want to pick up somewhere, and if this little black female is truly some saving grace, perhaps she is the way to go.

I notice her eyes, the way they watch me without watching, something Heyel seemed to always have done with me. But those eyes, her eyes remind me of a great healer, one I am not sure still lives. How many suffered under the heat of the angel's fire? How many escaped it with Dude, Hawthorn, and Yojimbo? Something sparks in my opalescent gaze, and I am moving with relative grace into a sitting position. She tells me to give my name, and I smile softly. "Zeivah." The Latin lilt hitches on my name, voice hoarse from crying each night, vocal cords nearly shot from over use. I have the same bell like quality, it is simply hidden beneath years of abuse to my larynx. "Quae vestra parvulus?" (What is yours, young one?) I ask, deciding to test out my theory on whether this really was Heyel's apprentice all grown up. My mind flicks back to Eris, and I am a bit saddened and a little of the clever light leaves my eyes, but I recover quickly enough. If she was trained by Heyel, I still have some connection to my late husband. If not, then she bares a damned close resemblance.


Zeivah

"Baptized in fire, I rise like the phoenix from the ashes"



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