WITH SWORD AND SALT -
Of course Asterion did not want to get involved. Of course. Of course. And she cannot even blame him, not really, not totally, because it is not their problem - it has nothing do with them.
But Marisol has been thinking far too much of Isra and of how it might feel to almost-die, and she has never been one to shy away from duty.
So she takes off from the barracks in the dead of night, if not to start a fight then to gather information. All of Novus is dark and sleepy as she soars through the thin clouds and over the mountains and valleys; it is quiet except for the song of her heart, the beat of her wings, the sweet and innocent sound of birds singing in the air next to her. Despite the direness of the situation, it is almost peaceful. The quiet. The dark. The knowledge of righteousness.
The air shifts a few degrees warmer. The moon has started to settle and the sun to rise, and miles below Mari can see where the green of the fields fades into deep, golden sand. Her pulse ratchets a little higher. Now the citadel pours over the dunes, and she can see the beginnings of a sandstone civilization. With a sigh of discontent Mari folds her wings to her sides and starts her dive down, down, down -
When she lands, it is just outside the city center. Her hooves sink into the dry sand, and wind scrapes away what little comfort there is in her coat. It is dawn now. The sky simmers with light pink and oranges and purples. The streets are empty, though Marisol cannot be sure whose fault that is, if it is in anyone.
Without her warpaint or her sashes, she is nothing more than a girl shouldering her way into Solterra for the first time. Nothing more than a stranger doing her best to fulfill her duties.
A little dark spot in the bright sand.
@isra <3
But Marisol has been thinking far too much of Isra and of how it might feel to almost-die, and she has never been one to shy away from duty.
So she takes off from the barracks in the dead of night, if not to start a fight then to gather information. All of Novus is dark and sleepy as she soars through the thin clouds and over the mountains and valleys; it is quiet except for the song of her heart, the beat of her wings, the sweet and innocent sound of birds singing in the air next to her. Despite the direness of the situation, it is almost peaceful. The quiet. The dark. The knowledge of righteousness.
The air shifts a few degrees warmer. The moon has started to settle and the sun to rise, and miles below Mari can see where the green of the fields fades into deep, golden sand. Her pulse ratchets a little higher. Now the citadel pours over the dunes, and she can see the beginnings of a sandstone civilization. With a sigh of discontent Mari folds her wings to her sides and starts her dive down, down, down -
When she lands, it is just outside the city center. Her hooves sink into the dry sand, and wind scrapes away what little comfort there is in her coat. It is dawn now. The sky simmers with light pink and oranges and purples. The streets are empty, though Marisol cannot be sure whose fault that is, if it is in anyone.
Without her warpaint or her sashes, she is nothing more than a girl shouldering her way into Solterra for the first time. Nothing more than a stranger doing her best to fulfill her duties.
A little dark spot in the bright sand.
@isra <3
![[Image: ddg6quy-9d15dab5-339c-4b09-8b57-20a99fda...jvUop12efQ]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/c175b84a-409b-40aa-8b86-49ed65b989ee/ddg6quy-9d15dab5-339c-4b09-8b57-20a99fda550e.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcL2MxNzViODRhLTQwOWItNDBhYS04Yjg2LTQ5ZWQ2NWI5ODllZVwvZGRnNnF1eS05ZDE1ZGFiNS0zMzljLTRiMDktOGI1Ny0yMGE5OWZkYTU1MGUucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.j-t9RuUsmMyaVL-O1rvZqbyyPYdOvtjHLjvUop12efQ)
