Carantathraiel — Roleplayer Guild

For so long, she'd been walking.
So long, in fact, that she'd lost track of how many months had gone by. But, as stories have it, that was a common thing for elves. When time didn't effect you, it seemed pointless to pay much attention to it. Truthfully, it was hard to even gauge how many years she'd lived. A century, at least. Perhaps less. But, then again, perhaps more. To be completely honest, Shalan was so tired, so mentally exhausted, so physically drained, that if a stranger had walked up to her and asked how many toes the elf had, she was positive she wouldn't be able to answer.

The world had changed around her. She'd left the barren wasteland that was her home, sent out by the Elders and her Queen, to walk in search of something unseen. Her, and a dozen others. She'd walked over desert, her body burning, and through blizzards until her feet felt they'd snap off like the icicles in the trees.
Now, it had changed again. Forest. Forest was pleasant. Cool and shaded, though not too cold that it was uncomfortable. The smell of the pines and the moist dirt danced beneath her nose. She could hear birds and foxes, the sound the leaves made when the wind blew, and the heartbeat of the trees.

So far, this was her favourite terrain. It was even welcoming to her, offering berries and plants she knew to be edible. With every creature that Shalan trapped and ate, she prayed to the forest, thanking it for it's help, and to the creature itself, apologizing for ending its life.
Two days, now, Shalan estimated, she'd been in the forest, with only one brief stop in the first day to start a fire and cook the meat of a rodent. Now, she knew she needed to stop once more. Her last sleep was days ago, and her mind was beginning to fog.
Ahead of her, she could smell water, mixed with the scent of fish and algae. Perhaps a rest there, then she could catch fish and be on again.

Shalan knelt beside the pool of water, calmly fed by a stream, and cupped a small amount in her hands to drink. Gods, it tasted like bliss. She had water in her skin, sure, but after resting against her hip for days, it grew warm and stale. Fresh water, cold water, always tasted better. Her fiery eyes went back and forth, taking in the little clearing. The pool sat in the center of it, a fallen log on the other side, covered in moss and sprouts of younger saplings. The ground was soft; the prints of animals that came to drink were left in the mud.

It was peaceful.

After drinking until her stomach felt tight, Shalan stood and crossed to the log, laying her belongings in the space between the trunk and the earth before she lay down before them, hiding them from view. If an animal should try to get into her packs, she'd wake and be able to shoo it off. All was hidden but her sword. Her prized possession. The blade given to her and the others by the Queen before they were sent away. The sword was so delicately crafted, so skillfully designed, that the metal itself changed colours, the image of a phoenix blazed from within the hard face. It was all she had from home. And it stood to remind her of her duty, her purpose, and her reason for being.

Shalan clutched the sword in her hand, tucking most of the sheathed weapon under her body. It had been entirely uncomfortable sleeping on such a hard object for the first few weeks, but she'd grown used to it, now. It protected to weapon from thieves, and allowed Shalan remove it quickly from its scabbard should she need it. Covering hersellf loosely with her cloak, the elf lay her head on her arm. With luck, she'd be able to sleep until fully rested then move on. After days on her feet, she dozed off quickly, curled against the shade of the tree.

Mich: I'm pretty sure he's not giving up. It hopefully isn't one sided. But he's just in a spot where he's not sure if he wants to remain in a marriage or split up and live wild. I think its a pretty common reaction to a terminal-ish diagnosis from a doctor. He loves me, he's just not sure he's /in/ love. He's not sure about anything, even about his job, or where he wants to settle... anything. So its not only me.
When we FINALLY (fucking military) get stateside and settle in a house wherever we are sent, I think it will be easier on him to decide. So basically, its just a waiting game for now.

Krin. Really, thank you. You are a huge help. I'd give you a giant hug and cook you a huge feast if I could.

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