Juniper
You cannot make a man by standing a sheep on its hind-legs.
Restless like the wind, the mourning dove shifts under the setting sun's final gasping moments. She eases through trees and mud alike, remembering fondly the squelching of mud underfoot as a mere girl, the horrified gasps as she'd trail it through temple rooms until set at the dinner table only to be banned until not a speckle from her feet could be seen. How many nights had her Priestesses made her go hungry, watched with condescending faces while she withered away ,while she learned and flourished under their tutelage? The smile that now curls pale lips is nothing short of serene and unearthly, as unsettling as the marsh wren chirping. Only echoing silence greets them, a roaring abyss that swallows all sound and lets none live too long.
But this is her home.
Juniper has learned the sinkholes that once were, her wings spread to lift her above foliage and wetlands that would otherwise be impossible to cross by foot. The breeze whispers to her, tickles her with a warm welcome, pulls the sweat from her skin as she delves deeper and deeper into the heart of the Tinea. Just ahead a reptile slithers back into the waters, beady eyes watching as she floats above. Pale as death, pale as a phantom, she merely winks and watches it fully submerge, watches as its water-trail disappears in search of distant prey. Vines fall from ancient trees whose branches don't even listen to the howling of those high currents far above, water splashes, reaching up, up, up to sully her pristine coat, to cover her cloak, but it isn't quite high enough. She pulls higher, just under the canopy that is as aware of her as she is of it; every beat of her wings draws autumnal leaves closer, sweltering sweat-drops from the sky falling to mist her coat once more.
The fall never was as harsh as the winters. So she lands then, settles in alongside the broad expanse of a small clearing hidden away, a pool of water gurgling on the other side. Sinafay adored coming to this part, this one place of peace that rocked them to sleep in the summer heat after they'd indulged on fat, succulent berries falling heavily from their branches. It is here where she settles, a petite expanse of sky settling into the tall grasses, humming and crooning to the buzzing of crickets and dragonflies alike.
