Below her, not far but a decent ways, Karsi was finding his own path and, from time to time, throwing a look upwards to see where his bonded was.
She was higher, climbing and leaping across gaps that others might find too treacherous. And the way she moved made her look like she was truly made for this. Her grandsire had told her when she had met him, that his kind called the mountaintops home. They lived their entire lives up the top, rarely descending below. She was less like him than her father, but she was far more like Minas than Nylah ever had been.
And it showed as she laughed as she leapt. Scree fell as Ciaran’s movement ruptured the shale she’d been standing upon, her previous place she had been standing disintegrated as it slid down the mountain. Ciaran heard it but was not alarmed. She had made her way to a safer precipice, one that was lit by the sun and warmer her deep into her bones. The wind came surging up the mountainside, her feathering flattening against her head as it shone in the sunlight.
Ciaran looked around. It seemed this place was a path more regularly used. It was a safe path, she knew, but Karsi would find her again on the other side. She looked out behind her, Novus extending out beyond where she could see, and then to the front. Denocte opened up, ringed by these mountains, the Arma Mountains, and where Ciaran would more than likely find she preferred to be.
She grinned as she looked upward. There was a path opening to her eyes, made of rock and shale. For now, she recovered her stamina and drank some a small pool formed from water as it ran down in small rivulets and creeks along the mountain’s flank. It was cool and tasted somewhat stagnant but it was water none the less.
As she finished the drink and looked up, she smiled to herself.
She was higher, climbing and leaping across gaps that others might find too treacherous. And the way she moved made her look like she was truly made for this. Her grandsire had told her when she had met him, that his kind called the mountaintops home. They lived their entire lives up the top, rarely descending below. She was less like him than her father, but she was far more like Minas than Nylah ever had been.
And it showed as she laughed as she leapt. Scree fell as Ciaran’s movement ruptured the shale she’d been standing upon, her previous place she had been standing disintegrated as it slid down the mountain. Ciaran heard it but was not alarmed. She had made her way to a safer precipice, one that was lit by the sun and warmer her deep into her bones. The wind came surging up the mountainside, her feathering flattening against her head as it shone in the sunlight.
Ciaran looked around. It seemed this place was a path more regularly used. It was a safe path, she knew, but Karsi would find her again on the other side. She looked out behind her, Novus extending out beyond where she could see, and then to the front. Denocte opened up, ringed by these mountains, the Arma Mountains, and where Ciaran would more than likely find she preferred to be.
She grinned as she looked upward. There was a path opening to her eyes, made of rock and shale. For now, she recovered her stamina and drank some a small pool formed from water as it ran down in small rivulets and creeks along the mountain’s flank. It was cool and tasted somewhat stagnant but it was water none the less.
As she finished the drink and looked up, she smiled to herself.
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