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IC - General / The Drowned Wing
« on: October 28, 2009, 11:06:17 pm »
Having spent a great many years educating herself and learning her art, the creature often mistaken as a pixie, and is small by even pixie standards, stands on the eastern edge of Aliuna, the very town she grew up in. She looks out over the sea and breaths in the sea air, her wings almost shaking with anticipation. The boats, going out for their morning catch, don't notice her, but she watches each and every one of them, still knowing their schedules by heart, in anticipation of finding enough food to survive with.
She watches the south with piqued eagerness, occasionally flying higher as if to try and peek over the horizon. After years of searching, she's finally found a place to call her own home, and she intends to open it up to those that are like herself, homeless. She reflects back, as the sun dances on the light ripples of the water, to her own past, and the number of times she was forced to resort to less than ethical means to feed herself, and when able, to feed the others in her group. She seemed to have a knack for it, given her small size, and the fact that she could fly higher than most could reach. They tended to give up the chase when she flew over someone's roof and down in to the next street, only to have the other children help hide her, in hopes that they would be repaid with a bite of whatever she'd stolen. The real shocker came the day she was hiding from the guards and wandered to the platforms above the market center. A whole new world was opened as she glanced at the vial and potions. She did little more than watch carefully, and listen to the words spoken. She began picking pockets, careful to never pick from those that were poor, and never from the pockets she'd seen on the platforms. She began to purchase components, minor ones, and to experiment with them. At least until the day she met him, but this isn't his story, this is hers.
She brings her mind back out of the past and checks the horizon to the south one more time, looking for the signs of something steaming toward her.
She watches the south with piqued eagerness, occasionally flying higher as if to try and peek over the horizon. After years of searching, she's finally found a place to call her own home, and she intends to open it up to those that are like herself, homeless. She reflects back, as the sun dances on the light ripples of the water, to her own past, and the number of times she was forced to resort to less than ethical means to feed herself, and when able, to feed the others in her group. She seemed to have a knack for it, given her small size, and the fact that she could fly higher than most could reach. They tended to give up the chase when she flew over someone's roof and down in to the next street, only to have the other children help hide her, in hopes that they would be repaid with a bite of whatever she'd stolen. The real shocker came the day she was hiding from the guards and wandered to the platforms above the market center. A whole new world was opened as she glanced at the vial and potions. She did little more than watch carefully, and listen to the words spoken. She began picking pockets, careful to never pick from those that were poor, and never from the pockets she'd seen on the platforms. She began to purchase components, minor ones, and to experiment with them. At least until the day she met him, but this isn't his story, this is hers.
She brings her mind back out of the past and checks the horizon to the south one more time, looking for the signs of something steaming toward her.