Suddenly there were more bodies on this sea abandoned shore than there should have been. Acton, first, followed by a faintly familiar face from a time that felt much longer ago than it was. And there is derision in her silver eyes and more bitterness in her heart than Jezanna knows what to do with. When Isra touches her a shiver passes over her skin.
"The power to do what? To stand here and die at the hands of a wave that reaches for the sky?" and she thinks she should fear death, should fear the clock slowly ticking down on her life. Right now though there is only a bone weariness that spans space and time; worlds and centuries. "You may need more than just a decent drink after all this, Acton," Jezanna says to the fire and smoke man, eyes flitting momentarily over the ghostly one behind him. She's not sure if she trusts the way he draws his dagger.
Then Isra goes to the beach and beyond, where the sand is packed and wet and the too curious for their own good poke their noses and dig with their hooves. Jezanna thinks they could all die here on this shore, bodies washed onto the cobbled streets of the court or maybe out to sea, lost forever. And to think, of all the dangers they have been faced with, it is be their own stupidity that could be their doom.
The midnight woman laughed, then, because there is nothing funny about the lost and injured—those who are and will be—and yet they have gone into war with birds that make lightning and left the safety of their homes, bating their breath and seeing how long they can get away with it. Jezanna looked at Acton, and Araxes and even Raum and says, "If we survive this I will find a place to buy you all a drink, and it's going to taste damn good to be alive."
"The power to do what? To stand here and die at the hands of a wave that reaches for the sky?" and she thinks she should fear death, should fear the clock slowly ticking down on her life. Right now though there is only a bone weariness that spans space and time; worlds and centuries. "You may need more than just a decent drink after all this, Acton," Jezanna says to the fire and smoke man, eyes flitting momentarily over the ghostly one behind him. She's not sure if she trusts the way he draws his dagger.
Then Isra goes to the beach and beyond, where the sand is packed and wet and the too curious for their own good poke their noses and dig with their hooves. Jezanna thinks they could all die here on this shore, bodies washed onto the cobbled streets of the court or maybe out to sea, lost forever. And to think, of all the dangers they have been faced with, it is be their own stupidity that could be their doom.
The midnight woman laughed, then, because there is nothing funny about the lost and injured—those who are and will be—and yet they have gone into war with birds that make lightning and left the safety of their homes, bating their breath and seeing how long they can get away with it. Jezanna looked at Acton, and Araxes and even Raum and says, "If we survive this I will find a place to buy you all a drink, and it's going to taste damn good to be alive."
ooc: @Isra @Acton @Raum @Araxes
