she was powerful not because she wasn't scared,
but because she went on strongly despite her fear.
but because she went on strongly despite her fear.
Today Maerys was more elegant than she had been before, another season thrusting her further into womanhood. The feminine curves of her body filled more and more with each passing day though there was still something so youthful about Maerys. She had that bashful gaze juvenile women often wore, but it was never morose. Regardless of her age, there was an apparent swell of valor and potential that flowed through her veins. The brawn that swelled from her skeleton was not overbearing, though it was undeniably present. Carried at her side was an ax, pristine and deadly, that gleamed softly in the sunlight. Though poised and regal, her movements were swift and fluid, those of a warrior. Maerys seemed to be a juxtaposition, both an elixir and a poison, as she moved through the Arma Mountains.
The nature that composed this region was playful in essence; the skies, timber, and soil all thrived with distinct classes of life. The opportunity for exhilaration and reinvigoration was now more than ever as the frozen fingers of Christmastime were superseded by spring's embrace. Now the storms were life-bringing rather than frosty, liquids deftly delivered by the heavens to breed new promise in the ground. The flags of grass were fresher than they had been in moons, something that was soon to be echoed by the leaflets that budded carelessly on previously void branches. Birds trilled, sweetly high, their melodies as playful as the birds themselves. The perennials raised from the loam as powerfully as one could ever envisage, first developing one at a time before evolving into couples and crowds. These bodies of blossoms appeared to caress the sky so sharply and recklessly, raising themselves from the earth as if it was their obligation to transform the timid winter earth into steadfast and dazzling flares of vibrancy.
The solitary thing that kept Maerys from any springtime diversion was the route her hooves spurred her across. To leave the track was to descend down a precipitous incline of rock or to be lost for countless days, neither of which the girl sought. This pathway was not one that was convenient to follow, spacious in some areas and deficient in others (some points barely there at all, no more than a mild disturbance on the ground). It is as steep as it is inconstant, just enough to hinder her pace from ever evening out. Though the path was unquestionably treacherous, it showed Maerys the undeniable, absolute excellence the area possessed. She grew sure on this path that if the earth had a pulse, the tender throb of the heart, it rose in the peaks and fell in the valleys. Everything she witnessed now was the soft tha-dump of a beating core.
The nature that composed this region was playful in essence; the skies, timber, and soil all thrived with distinct classes of life. The opportunity for exhilaration and reinvigoration was now more than ever as the frozen fingers of Christmastime were superseded by spring's embrace. Now the storms were life-bringing rather than frosty, liquids deftly delivered by the heavens to breed new promise in the ground. The flags of grass were fresher than they had been in moons, something that was soon to be echoed by the leaflets that budded carelessly on previously void branches. Birds trilled, sweetly high, their melodies as playful as the birds themselves. The perennials raised from the loam as powerfully as one could ever envisage, first developing one at a time before evolving into couples and crowds. These bodies of blossoms appeared to caress the sky so sharply and recklessly, raising themselves from the earth as if it was their obligation to transform the timid winter earth into steadfast and dazzling flares of vibrancy.
The solitary thing that kept Maerys from any springtime diversion was the route her hooves spurred her across. To leave the track was to descend down a precipitous incline of rock or to be lost for countless days, neither of which the girl sought. This pathway was not one that was convenient to follow, spacious in some areas and deficient in others (some points barely there at all, no more than a mild disturbance on the ground). It is as steep as it is inconstant, just enough to hinder her pace from ever evening out. Though the path was unquestionably treacherous, it showed Maerys the undeniable, absolute excellence the area possessed. She grew sure on this path that if the earth had a pulse, the tender throb of the heart, it rose in the peaks and fell in the valleys. Everything she witnessed now was the soft tha-dump of a beating core.
M A E R Y S
