fertile ground -- a greener pasture, it had waited for her. it's thin fingers, like tendrils had reached beyond the oceans and clutched her heart. arduously, it's pull had won out. and there, after much effort and time nimiane found herself on it's shore. it's briny mouth had laid it's kisses against her flesh, it's froth clung to her sides as she was birthed upon it's shore. like new, her limbs felt the fatigue of the distance she'd come in coming to this island. her eyes, like opals, widened as the sun greeted them and she began to stand. her knees, weakly shuddered, gathering beneath her with the remnants of her strength. softly, her exhales drew out a wintry vapor into the chilled morning air. she'd arrived, and safely so. after some time, the young wanderer would find the urge to venture even further. the ivory wash of her petite form had dried, the gilded isle of pale coloring held to the moisture, bronzed by the sea. yet, the brine held fast to the silk of her skin. and slow, with deliberation and patience, she slipped deeper into the meadow's folds. her attention, guided by the scent of many, remained alert. it was a place of gathering, and she felt it'd been safe to assume she would not be remain alone for long.
C A B A L
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