![[Image: rhosbyspace2_by_outofthefurnace-dbkwvw7.png]](https://orig15.deviantart.net/7f0b/f/2017/234/b/6/rhosbyspace2_by_outofthefurnace-dbkwvw7.png)
Rhoswen had been absent for weeks, roaming lands beyond Novus in search of something vast and indefinite. An answer, or several, to the questions desecrating her happiness. From Denocte she had fled after visiting her sovereign brother, storming toward the open road with only fire in her heart and the heat of the sun on her pale back. For a long time, then, the sky had been her only companion, and for once she had enjoyed the ringing song of solitude. For years previous it had hung around her throat like the hangman's noose - but no longer; she was free, if only for a moment. Into her father's heavy shoes she had stepped, shackles of burnished iron cast from her bloody ankles; the looming fear of not being the dutiful merchant daughter her family had expected of her. But what wolf can truly be tamed? The call of a wilderness beyond Novus dimmed after weeks of chasing wanderlust into the night, into the dark crevices of her spiderweb mind. And at last she had turned back toward Solterra, knowing ultimately she might have missed the most important events in recent history.
Thick auburn curls bounced around her cheekbones as the distant sound of a bellowing roar echoed to the north. Rhoswen paused, a fleeting smile dancing across her lips - she'd barely stepped foot back in Solterra and already drama was unfolding. She knew most, if not all, of the gathering would not recognise her, for she had been most unusually unforthcoming - but all that was about to change. Leaving Denocte and her family behind had been far more troubling than the young girl could ever have anticipated; she'd needed time to adjust; and adjust she had. With a push of her milelong limbs, Rhoswen flew across the ground toward Solterra's great court. By the time she arrived there were already several heads standing before and around a man of whom she could finally put a face to the name. Her eyes, borne of raging storms and rain, glittered fervently; set alight by the buzzing anticipation in the air. She moved languidly, slipping through the tall doors with elegant ease, and yet every muscle in her body stretched and tensed with excitement. Unlike others, she did not sidle up against anyone - instead she stood apart - distinct and proud. Here she was at last.
Thick auburn curls bounced around her cheekbones as the distant sound of a bellowing roar echoed to the north. Rhoswen paused, a fleeting smile dancing across her lips - she'd barely stepped foot back in Solterra and already drama was unfolding. She knew most, if not all, of the gathering would not recognise her, for she had been most unusually unforthcoming - but all that was about to change. Leaving Denocte and her family behind had been far more troubling than the young girl could ever have anticipated; she'd needed time to adjust; and adjust she had. With a push of her milelong limbs, Rhoswen flew across the ground toward Solterra's great court. By the time she arrived there were already several heads standing before and around a man of whom she could finally put a face to the name. Her eyes, borne of raging storms and rain, glittered fervently; set alight by the buzzing anticipation in the air. She moved languidly, slipping through the tall doors with elegant ease, and yet every muscle in her body stretched and tensed with excitement. Unlike others, she did not sidle up against anyone - instead she stood apart - distinct and proud. Here she was at last.
