Cracked and cracking still. (open)
Nov 11, 2014 16:24:09 GMT -6
Post by rust on Nov 11, 2014 16:24:09 GMT -6
INARA
It looked like summer had settled in here. The grasses felt a little dry underfoot, and the air held a sort of static energy to it that promised summer storms and freak rainfalls that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
Summer storms were often her favorite. The clouds would often rush in out of nowhere, blotting out the sun and darkening the land. Whatever rain fell and flooded the land was usually sucked up by the dry earth and there was little evidence of there ever having been a storm in the first place. Storms in her homeland were scarce, and often manifested as little more than a shower that was a little heavier than usual. Winters were mild and summers were comfortable.
When she had found this place in the middle of the night, she had decided that it was best to stay in the cover of the trees until daytime rolled around. Even if it seemed as though the forest was sparsely populated, it would not do Inara any good to be eaten alive on her first night here. What shelter she did find was little more than a small tree with branches that twisted out and promised to offer a little bit of shade once the day had risen, and was far enough away from the top of her head to be spacious and comfortable.
Just what she needed, apparently.
So she slept.
In the morning, Inara was quietly prodded awake by the tweeting and chirping of sparrows and other flying things that woke with the rising of the sun. The constant chirping was a reminder of the season, and the luke-warm sunlight that poured through the trees at this early hour was just another trial of the summer. With a little sigh, she decided to push onwards, blinking against the early morning light and frowning a little frown at how strangely empty the forest had remained since the night before.
Summer storms were often her favorite. The clouds would often rush in out of nowhere, blotting out the sun and darkening the land. Whatever rain fell and flooded the land was usually sucked up by the dry earth and there was little evidence of there ever having been a storm in the first place. Storms in her homeland were scarce, and often manifested as little more than a shower that was a little heavier than usual. Winters were mild and summers were comfortable.
When she had found this place in the middle of the night, she had decided that it was best to stay in the cover of the trees until daytime rolled around. Even if it seemed as though the forest was sparsely populated, it would not do Inara any good to be eaten alive on her first night here. What shelter she did find was little more than a small tree with branches that twisted out and promised to offer a little bit of shade once the day had risen, and was far enough away from the top of her head to be spacious and comfortable.
Just what she needed, apparently.
So she slept.
In the morning, Inara was quietly prodded awake by the tweeting and chirping of sparrows and other flying things that woke with the rising of the sun. The constant chirping was a reminder of the season, and the luke-warm sunlight that poured through the trees at this early hour was just another trial of the summer. With a little sigh, she decided to push onwards, blinking against the early morning light and frowning a little frown at how strangely empty the forest had remained since the night before.