[AW] it's been such a long time

[Renwick]

renwick

—
« Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.»

L

akes and River bends have a certain nack for drawing every soul. Lost and found, angry and betrayed, mournful and melancholic.

Water is a source of peace, just as much as it's a source of longing. Tales older than he often depicting ragged and weary heroes standing at river banks, at the very edge of the ocean and heaving old sighs that will cross the expanse of time to those who come after.

Renwick? Well Renwick is simply here to enjoy the view this time around, rather than join the grey shrouded souls that pass through. It's rather scenic, but he's biased — everything in Denocte is scenic to him. From the weathered weyrs of the Brotherhood's ancient castle, to the cobblestone streets wrapped in banners all the colours of the rainbow. A floating sea of prismatic delight overhead.

Forest canopy & wide open sky is all that floats above him today, from his spot against the lakeside. Nestled down amongst the long summer grasses, opposed to forcing his feet to suffer through another bout of idling around. There's flowers in his hair again, in the thick rope of his braid loosely wrapped around his neck, comfortable against the thick gold collar he's taken to wearing. Purple tiger Lilies twined with jasmine, a homage to both night & moon.

A stranger appears, an ominous shade of black & white, and Renwick's golden gaze immediately settles upon him with interest. No sense in hiding it, when you are for the most part, the only two souls capable of extended conversation. Save the birds, but birds prefer to sing, and when they do talk — they only offer parroted words. The roc's of the Weyr had been rather humourous about that one.

"Lost?" A question to the man's grin, intrigued rather than perturbed. "Or looking for something?"

« r » | @Entia