Post by Ebonywind on Feb 13, 2008 13:51:43 GMT -5
(( I have no idea where this is going or who else may play along. It is an open thread so we'll just have to see what happens. ))
Ebonywind sat staring out over the Great Sea. Grains of sand shifted about her with each slight movement she made and the cry of sea birds occasionally split the air. Beyond that the air was still, the winds silent. No tracks crossed the beach save her own. Even the water lapping onto shore was strangely muffled. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, trying once more to listen with her deeper senses. To hear the voices of the Spirits about her.
She frowned after several moments and lay her muzzle upon her drawn up knees. Still they did not speak. The wind that once chattered at her so frequently, the calming song of water, the strengthening heartbeat of earth, the powerful cries of fire, were all silent. Never in her life had she been so completely alone.
Absently she reached out and stroked the white chicken sitting in the sand next to her. The bird ruffled her feathers a moment before settling back to sleep. Her only company lately, Ebonywind welcomed the small, curious creature.
She wondered briefly where she would lay her blanket tonight. She was not particularly fond of the inn at Gadgetzan; it was expensive and loud. She could not rest there. But she found herself unable to return to the inn at Camp Mojache in Feralas. The memories haunted her.
The waterfall just beyond the balcony that once sang to her of beauty and comfort, that once lulled her to sleep, now only reminded her of what was lost. She felt taunted by the empty room she once shared with another, by the hollow sounds of her own hooves echoing on the wood plank floors. Her dreams were empty and the voices of the spirits were silent.
When she was at her home village at least the voices of those around her helped make up for the emptiness. Even there, though, the loneliness crept in. The Golden Plains, once a place of joy with the wind whispering through the long, golden grasses, the herds of kodo wandering peacefully across the land, the gentle rains bringing life to all around and easing the hearts of the Tauren who lived there, no longer comforted her.
Greatmother Tenshi was right. The tribe had no place for a shaman who could not hear the spirits any longer. Ebonywind had returned there seeking solace after he was no longer in her life. The Tauress that once had been content alone now could not find her path with him gone, and had gone home in the hopes of restoring her heart. As the months stretched on and the emptiness gnawed deeper into her soul, it became apparent there was little left for her to do except take her place as any other female in the tribe skinning hides and cooking meals. She would never have a tent of her own.
She frowned as she remembered that last day there. Greatmother Tenshi would not let her settle into that life. The matron of the tribe scolded her, proclaiming her too wrapped up in her sorrow to hear the spirits and that the tribe needed a shaman more than they needed another cook. She cast Ebonywind out. “Until you find the voices of our ancestors again.” She said.
With a sigh and a final pat for the chicken, she stood up and shook her head. She wandered down the beach remembering a small cove that was well sheltered from the elements and would be a suitable place to bed down for the night.
She rubbed at her eyes, wiping away moisture, at the thought of never returning home again.
Ebonywind sat staring out over the Great Sea. Grains of sand shifted about her with each slight movement she made and the cry of sea birds occasionally split the air. Beyond that the air was still, the winds silent. No tracks crossed the beach save her own. Even the water lapping onto shore was strangely muffled. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, trying once more to listen with her deeper senses. To hear the voices of the Spirits about her.
She frowned after several moments and lay her muzzle upon her drawn up knees. Still they did not speak. The wind that once chattered at her so frequently, the calming song of water, the strengthening heartbeat of earth, the powerful cries of fire, were all silent. Never in her life had she been so completely alone.
Absently she reached out and stroked the white chicken sitting in the sand next to her. The bird ruffled her feathers a moment before settling back to sleep. Her only company lately, Ebonywind welcomed the small, curious creature.
She wondered briefly where she would lay her blanket tonight. She was not particularly fond of the inn at Gadgetzan; it was expensive and loud. She could not rest there. But she found herself unable to return to the inn at Camp Mojache in Feralas. The memories haunted her.
The waterfall just beyond the balcony that once sang to her of beauty and comfort, that once lulled her to sleep, now only reminded her of what was lost. She felt taunted by the empty room she once shared with another, by the hollow sounds of her own hooves echoing on the wood plank floors. Her dreams were empty and the voices of the spirits were silent.
When she was at her home village at least the voices of those around her helped make up for the emptiness. Even there, though, the loneliness crept in. The Golden Plains, once a place of joy with the wind whispering through the long, golden grasses, the herds of kodo wandering peacefully across the land, the gentle rains bringing life to all around and easing the hearts of the Tauren who lived there, no longer comforted her.
Greatmother Tenshi was right. The tribe had no place for a shaman who could not hear the spirits any longer. Ebonywind had returned there seeking solace after he was no longer in her life. The Tauress that once had been content alone now could not find her path with him gone, and had gone home in the hopes of restoring her heart. As the months stretched on and the emptiness gnawed deeper into her soul, it became apparent there was little left for her to do except take her place as any other female in the tribe skinning hides and cooking meals. She would never have a tent of her own.
She frowned as she remembered that last day there. Greatmother Tenshi would not let her settle into that life. The matron of the tribe scolded her, proclaiming her too wrapped up in her sorrow to hear the spirits and that the tribe needed a shaman more than they needed another cook. She cast Ebonywind out. “Until you find the voices of our ancestors again.” She said.
With a sigh and a final pat for the chicken, she stood up and shook her head. She wandered down the beach remembering a small cove that was well sheltered from the elements and would be a suitable place to bed down for the night.
She rubbed at her eyes, wiping away moisture, at the thought of never returning home again.