03-10-2022, 10:23 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-20-2022, 12:19 AM by Riannon. Edited 5 times in total.)
branching away from the main struggle, mostly for @Elowyn & @Olive but lmk if anyone wants to join ig
there had been no frightful fury when last she had clutched the cobbles of this shore; all riannon knows is that she is spent, and that the dune-woven woman at her side is wived to the helm of windmere, and that her palantír is sent to short by the golden-fleeced pilgrim from before. going to the shadowed seer was better than this; better than thinking of how to clumsily fill the strained silence that follows after men have gone to war and husband's go to hunt and lovers surrender themselves to lusting for blood. when she goes to the waif that straggles ashore, whatever green she has brought with her is abandoned; ever nearer, nearer until she and her are as close as a heartbeat and the nightingale shrugs off her shawl of shame in favor of wending her moonshed neck 'round olive's shoulders and towing her into her slight embrace.
there are no words, yet;
there is no need.
the staff team luvs u