✧ bury me shallow

---

It was the whisper of a novice that sent the world careening, turning tail and fleeing with the words of prophets on their tongues—unfulfilled dreams they'd said, hopes of fools they'd lie. Twyla bloomed within a dream, falsified truths were spewed and coddled her in a warm embrace until it was all she knew, all she could see.

She knew nothing but what she was told, nothing but what the Star Mother so graciously entitled her with. Her language and her faith clung to her like tight silk, caressing her in a way that was as chilling as it was sensuous. And though she adorned them with pride, the loneliness of the world crept within the corners of her vision, tainting and bending her views to its liking.

And then she was nothing. The worlds she'd traipsed within amounted to lost memories and fractured feelings—as fleeting as they were forgotten. Taken, again and again, forced to adapt and conform to worlds foreign and strange. She was exhausted and confused, relying on pleas from silent lips to light her path.

And then there she was again, reborn from the very stars she found herself praying to—pleading to.

The grass crumpled beneath her sprawled frame, rocks sprinkling off the small cliff to her left. Wanton and persistent, the winds tugged at her immobile frame, urging her to wake and start anew.

---

@Runar Vanderfell Woods Joining Thread

the staff team luvs u

I haven't played him as an adult yet, so I apologize if I'm rusty figuring out his flow!

---

It was a day like any other, or so far as young Runar could tell. Admittedly, his memory was foggy upon the morning's light, but he thought little of it. As High King, he had more responsibilities than he could count, and it was his mother who urged him to start his days in the break of new light. Patrolling was one word for the task at hand, though his father preferred to call it a stroll. He was alert as he walked, senses focused, listening to the cries of Mother Earth. Even in the crisp winter air, it was a beautiful day.

Perhaps he could spare a few hours by the lake in the run below. The river had yet to freeze, and if he was lucky, he might spot an easy fish or two. Unfortunately, his meal endeavor would have to wait for later. It was something else that caught his eye, still and dark, breathing against the rock and grass. A woman. Runar turned on his path and bounded quickly; heavy paws thundered the narrow paths underfoot with an ease that only came with experience. “Miss— are you alright, Miss?”

He'd allow her to keep her personal space, but Runar would still loom overhead, hesitant to lower his muzzle and check her should he be met with fangs.

the staff team luvs u