The Lost Islands
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Falls

Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.

the ace in exile



Another autumn had faded almost entirely away, and largely without incident or interruption. Viđarr didn’t know how to feel about it. Truly, he mostly felt… old. What a strange thought that was. For the first time, it seems that he may not fight things out to the bitter end… he may not go out in battle. In truth, it’s been too long since Viđarr has felt the surge and thrill of combat. Too long since the scrape of teeth on his flesh, the dull thud of hooves on his sides. It’s been too long, though he does not forget. No, he will never forget. But things are quiet.

Too quiet.

Confident in the safety of the Savanna, the shadow slips from its shores. The Crossing… Viđarr needs to go to the crossing. He needs to know if she’s there. It had been nearly a year and she… where did she go? There’s an aching in his sides, one that he can’t put down. One that he can’t let go of. The woman does not speak, yet he’s so dear to him. How? It’s in the understanding. Whatever their fates are spun from, it’s the same.

The Crossing. Viđarr makes landfall in the Meadow, where he stretches his neck and cranes his head, searching for her within each copse of trees, each windbreak of stone. All the places where the shadow should see her. With each, his heart breaks within his chest. She is not here. As he drifts towards the Falls, Viđarr’s spirits hang low around his shoulders.

It’s coming from the beach that the shadow of a man catches a glimpse. A glimpse of… her? Momentarily, his heart grows wings, soaring in his chest. He calls out to the figure of the woman that rises from the sea and continues up the sand. A soft call… friendly, tentative, hopeful. A heartbeat, a breath later, the wings are clipped. The sound of a laugh, it’s not her. She’s coming closer, more into focus… this is a stranger. Shorter, no spots. Viđarr doesn’t mean to look disappointed, but how capable is he of concealing his feelings? The woman before him would need to be the judge of that.

Then there was the question of having greeted a stranger. Viđarr worries now that he’s backed himself into a conversation that he doesn’t have the words for. That’s a cause for concern, but at least he can muster a polite smile. Hopefully the shadow had at least a bit of charm within him? Hopefully.

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