The Lost Islands
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Common

Force-claiming is allowed here once a week per character, as is blocking force-claims by the Peak/Lagoon (as a whole) once a week. Rollover is on Sundays.

May darkness never find us..

Aundra
8 years . Mare . Cremello Champagne. Mix. ee/Aa/CrCr/nCh/ZZ

She descends upon the land with almost death-like silence as her every movement is calculated and calibrated to as quiet as possible. She drifts in upon the humid breeze of summer hoping to be as unassuming as the pillowy white clouds floating through the brilliant blue of the sky above. Hesitant steps continue her path forward as dainty hooves stir up the most minuscule of dust clouds beneath them. Soon enough she finds herself within the lush emerald grasses abundant with various insects lazing about within the pleasant heat. A soft sigh escapes her lips as she relaxes slightly and allows herself to enjoy the loveliness the day has offered. Her journey pauses as she draws to a standstill. She glances around slowly to allow jade colored eyes to absorb the various happenings within the commons. What will come for me? she wonders to herself - for she knows that community grounds can lend temporary home to an assortment of monsters.

She remains within the sun's embrace while relishing the brief tranquility she has found. Being alone while surrounded by the hazy scent of others lingering close by is not strange, but having a moment without someone in her face is a welcome oddity. Her skin shivers at the touch of an errant bug and provides a small reminder of why summer can be less than ideal. She continues perusing the sights and languishing in her current exclusion. If only she, with matching alabaster skin, could drift away as easily as the clouds passing through unnoticed. The thought is pure folly - nothing is left alone long enough to simply disappear.

Anxious by nature and nurture alike, she dips her head quickly to snatch a mouthful of the enticing grass before returning to her post as sentinel. She is small by birth with her slender frame and delicately dished face. The manner in which her eyes flit from one distraction to the next reminds one of a hummingbird moving flower-to-flower in quick succession. Her body may appear still, but her thoughts are racing. The idea of being out of control is enough to send her spiraling into a rabbit hole of possibilities. Rather than indulge her overactive mind, she continues the mundane act of eating while maintaining her vigil for an impending approaches.

html by dante!


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