there are nights when the wolves are silent
and only the horses howl
and only the horses howl
Maerys was regarding the trees as she whirled towards the library, how they swayed in the wonton breeze while enrobing themselves with the most becoming verdurous tones. It was that time when summertime began to prosper into something the body perceived as much as the brain when sentiments caught their tepid updrafts. The heaven burned azure and the sun was a triumph of ochroid in its awning.
The library wasn't hard for one to find if they knew where to look. It was developed from the tree trunks, quaint, sitting subtly within the Viride Forest. As Maerys crossed through the threshold and into the eccentric edifice, her eyes were met with a maze of bookshelves. The floor was pitted, each mark the commencement of a narrative that would never be told. This library had been a soundless spectator to so much, the great and the tragic. Admiring the imperfections felt like a direct link to the past - the grooves filled with dirt dragged in long ago by hooves no longer alive and the faint scent of must clung to everything like an eternal perfume. She neither beamed nor scowled as she pushed herself forwards and onwards, merely tipping her skull to the lingering bodies that watched her with silent marvel.
The silver-haired girl was quick to find a secluded area in the library adjacent to a collection of books with subjects all related to combat and war. It was a vulgar topic for such a mellow environment, but Maerys had always loved to study in a way that would later benefit her as a warrior.
Her ax is tossed to the side with a loud clank as her eyes scan the area.
The soft candlelight of the library highlights the outlines of books, shelves, and desks with a calm glow that distracts Maerys only momentarily before she sinks to the ground, laying on top of an assortment of blankets and pillows with one of the many vulgar books spread out in front of her.
The act of sitting in the library with the familiar glow of candle flame reminded her so much of home; memories, cold and warm all at once.
She threw herself into studying and tried to rid her mind of the past.
The library wasn't hard for one to find if they knew where to look. It was developed from the tree trunks, quaint, sitting subtly within the Viride Forest. As Maerys crossed through the threshold and into the eccentric edifice, her eyes were met with a maze of bookshelves. The floor was pitted, each mark the commencement of a narrative that would never be told. This library had been a soundless spectator to so much, the great and the tragic. Admiring the imperfections felt like a direct link to the past - the grooves filled with dirt dragged in long ago by hooves no longer alive and the faint scent of must clung to everything like an eternal perfume. She neither beamed nor scowled as she pushed herself forwards and onwards, merely tipping her skull to the lingering bodies that watched her with silent marvel.
The silver-haired girl was quick to find a secluded area in the library adjacent to a collection of books with subjects all related to combat and war. It was a vulgar topic for such a mellow environment, but Maerys had always loved to study in a way that would later benefit her as a warrior.
Her ax is tossed to the side with a loud clank as her eyes scan the area.
The soft candlelight of the library highlights the outlines of books, shelves, and desks with a calm glow that distracts Maerys only momentarily before she sinks to the ground, laying on top of an assortment of blankets and pillows with one of the many vulgar books spread out in front of her.
The act of sitting in the library with the familiar glow of candle flame reminded her so much of home; memories, cold and warm all at once.
She threw herself into studying and tried to rid her mind of the past.
![[Image: maerys-pixel.png]](https://i.ibb.co/kM48w8r/maerys-pixel.png){kind=tracking}
x
force and magic always permitted
