06-16-2022, 09:50 PM
The Wilds - a beautiful and untamable piece of land soaked with the blood from those seeking a better life. She can smell the faint scent of the sea, and looks in its direction wondering what else lies beyond the mountain and Sanctuary. She knew the Eastern lands well enough to travel back if she so wished, but nothing awaited her there. Sometimes, she swore she could smell the scent of burning flesh and ash.
Morana steadily climbs up the beaten path towards the Sanctuary. Not for the building itself, but rather to harvest the wild plants that have survived this harsh summer weather. If it wasn't for her supplies being low and not trusting cheap merchants selling weeds as medicinal, she wouldn't be here either. Sweat slides down her cheeks as she climbs higher and higher. There's been no sight of life - human or otherwise - since she left the city. There is simple enjoyment in solitude. Even when she was with family, she had always been alone with her thoughts and goals. George had been her only companion for the last several years, but even he got on her nerves.
Her ears twitch at the sound of running water. It would be nice to cool off, she thinks, as she changes direction towards the stream. Her dress nearly catches on branches and heels on rocks as she steadily walks on. Eventually, she makes it there. A cold mountain stream breathing the sea smell into the forest. There's no one around, and she doesn't need to overheat. Morana sets her basket down and unbuttons her dress; the fabric is light and appropriate for the season, but it's still too much. One-by-one, boots and socks with the dress are laid on top of the basket concealing the silver dagger and flasks of emergency water. Her undergarments still conceal her body from view; at least while dry.
There's a small thrill at the idea of being caught in such a state out here, but who would blame her? Perhaps some old corpse living with 18th century ideologies. Sitting at the river bank, Morana puts her feet into the river and sighs happily. It felt nice to cool off after the long walk.
Morana steadily climbs up the beaten path towards the Sanctuary. Not for the building itself, but rather to harvest the wild plants that have survived this harsh summer weather. If it wasn't for her supplies being low and not trusting cheap merchants selling weeds as medicinal, she wouldn't be here either. Sweat slides down her cheeks as she climbs higher and higher. There's been no sight of life - human or otherwise - since she left the city. There is simple enjoyment in solitude. Even when she was with family, she had always been alone with her thoughts and goals. George had been her only companion for the last several years, but even he got on her nerves.
Her ears twitch at the sound of running water. It would be nice to cool off, she thinks, as she changes direction towards the stream. Her dress nearly catches on branches and heels on rocks as she steadily walks on. Eventually, she makes it there. A cold mountain stream breathing the sea smell into the forest. There's no one around, and she doesn't need to overheat. Morana sets her basket down and unbuttons her dress; the fabric is light and appropriate for the season, but it's still too much. One-by-one, boots and socks with the dress are laid on top of the basket concealing the silver dagger and flasks of emergency water. Her undergarments still conceal her body from view; at least while dry.
There's a small thrill at the idea of being caught in such a state out here, but who would blame her? Perhaps some old corpse living with 18th century ideologies. Sitting at the river bank, Morana puts her feet into the river and sighs happily. It felt nice to cool off after the long walk.