10-17-2016, 01:24 PM
The torrent of the ocean is plaguing her ears; Nayl hears nothing else but the lapping of waves and a gust that swirls around her coming from the open waters. There is no peace from it, no escape, and she yearns for the embrace of her Jungle again. It will never happen, but she at least has her memories to recall during those frequent moments of solitude when it’s just her and the world. She reflects on the viridian sea of trees and the prowling jaguars. The macaws squawked in the canopy and vibrant flowers riddled vines and the underbrush.
This place. It’s sand and water. There are very few trees to conceal them but there is an abundance of caves if they want to hide. It isn’t the same, but it is what has been granted to them. The sisterhood, in her eyes, is withering, but she wouldn’t admit this just yet. How can they be Amazons when they no longer have a Jungle (but she remembers telling Djinni otherwise)?
Hearing Lagertha’s familiar voice is what draws Nayl from her fleeting thoughts. She blinks slowly then follows the origin at a casual saunter until she is at the side of both Djinni and the former Queen. A weak grin quivers on the edges of her mouth but never comes to fruition as she looks around the emptiness surrounding them. ”A small army,” she murmurs flatly, disappointedly.
[sorry, muse has sucked lately]
This place. It’s sand and water. There are very few trees to conceal them but there is an abundance of caves if they want to hide. It isn’t the same, but it is what has been granted to them. The sisterhood, in her eyes, is withering, but she wouldn’t admit this just yet. How can they be Amazons when they no longer have a Jungle (but she remembers telling Djinni otherwise)?
Hearing Lagertha’s familiar voice is what draws Nayl from her fleeting thoughts. She blinks slowly then follows the origin at a casual saunter until she is at the side of both Djinni and the former Queen. A weak grin quivers on the edges of her mouth but never comes to fruition as she looks around the emptiness surrounding them. ”A small army,” she murmurs flatly, disappointedly.
[sorry, muse has sucked lately]