The sky was as sullen as my mood. We simmered together, edging ever closer to the point of bursting. Part electric, all grey.
I would have killed to be a stormcloud.
Instead I ambled through the mountains, feeling the air grow heavier and heavier with an unspoken promise. The air smelled like frost and dirt and restlessness. (I was told that restlessness was not a scent, but I knew what I knew. And I knew well the scent of restlessness.) I walked with my head low to the ground, my magic spread before me like an open palm. The roots and sticks and dirt of the forest floor did not have stories to share with me today. Instead they beckoned: “follow me until you don’t know where you are.”
I had nothing better to do, so I obeyed.
@Vaeri <3
