Under the old oak tree [Mirage/Any]

[Hestia]

sweet as sugar, hard as ice.
if you hurt me once, i'll kill you twice.

Since she woke she hasn’t stopped moving, searching, picking through the land as thoroughly as a cat bathes it’s coat. As she travels she is careful, she does not know what has happened in the time that she left, and doesn’t want to cross a line that she cannot come back from. Visiting the other kingdoms hasn’t crossed her agenda yet; understanding the politics of state would be wise before venturing into hostile territory on accident in her curious adventures.

Rumors of raids and armies are whispered through the gossiping locals that harbor themselves in the meadow. When this had all first happened, she had been one of those residents. That is, until an old friend found her and they gathered their sisters together banding to rebuild. A shudder overtakes her skin, that is a day that she won’t ever be able to forget, even if she wants to. Standing there in the cold, the dark, as the world changed, the earth feasting on their homes and loved ones. The screams and cries for help as the weak were neatly folded into the land carrying them to their graves. Devoured, burned, and plain killed; familiar faces, and terror filled strangers disappeared never to be seen again. She could only hope that somewhere out there her son and daughter had made it.

Nerine is beginning to grow on her, despite the cold and wet. The grasses are at least sweet, even if it lacks the safety of thick foliage to hunt or hide in depending on what the situation calls for. The tide pulls back, allowing one to walk along the shore and not be lashed at with the salty spray. Now is when it would be the best to explore; as earlier she thought she had seen a cave gasping for air each time the waves rolled back. She couldn’t get to it then, maybe now it would be possible. The sky begins darkening, threatening to ring itself dry over the land. Fuck, she curses at the heavens, there isn’t a tree in sight for her to hide under. She will get wet no matter what, unless she can reach the cave in time. Currently the path is dry, and picking her way along the cliff isn’t overly strenuous.

It takes her a minute to reach the beach and when she does, she pauses for a breath. Up close the shoreline is much more impressive, a thick bar of sand curls around itself blocking the biggest storms, and the cliffs buffer the onslaught of any mischievous sea storm that may have wandered to far from home. Over all it seems like a solid place to ward off natural disasters. However, to armies, they were exposed and would easily be slaughtered. She needs to find something, something that will aid them should war come.

Hestia

@[Mirage]