[it's not quiet for very long, keen wolf ears or otherwise, because Simmaeri is out in this wilderness again. there are people and things out here, too, she's learned, that have as much to share as the clusters of people holed up in the city. it just takes finding them...or them finding her.
that's the spell under the song: who are you? do you hear me? can you find me?
it's magic she freely and deftly wields, woven between notes of a wanderer's lament. dark, alone save for the watchers in the sky...and the trees.
perhaps she'll find that bird again. or some other beast.]
no subject
that's the spell under the song: who are you? do you hear me? can you find me?
it's magic she freely and deftly wields, woven between notes of a wanderer's lament. dark, alone save for the watchers in the sky...and the trees.
perhaps she'll find that bird again. or some other beast.]