"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Winter stretched around Tavani, making the world seem quieter than it really was. The sky above her was blue and clear, granting a small reprieve from more falling snow. The afternoon sun made the ground around her glitter in a beautiful way. She liked it best when the snow was fresh, before hoofprints crisscrossed it, but even the wayward and haphazard patterns made from those who passed through looked almost idyllic today. Spring was still a ways off but there wasn’t so strong of a bite to the wind today, making it pleasant.
Although sure that she would be more comfortable in a warmer climate, Tavani never could resist the draw of the Beqanna lands that showcased such wildly different seasons. The land and vegetation changed so wildly, sometimes just from one day to the next, and even after several years of living here she still finds it fascinating.
The pupils of her eyes were vivid blue today, reflecting the sky that stretched above, and she felt almost giddy. There was a lightness to her heart and it made her want to be around others, to find someone to talk to, and pretend as though she is someone who lives with this bright feeling inside of her often. Perhaps she could be, one day.
There does not seem to be anyone with the vicinity, however, so she wanders at a slow, relaxed pace - her senses alert for anyone that she might happen across.
