1 The Bonds of Sand. [Private / No Death] Wed May 09, 2018 10:32 pm
Tamae
D-rank
A vibrant hue casted along the drifted horizon, allowing the pigments of pinks and oranges to tinge the clouds with ease. In the sky, a setting sun in the yonder, was finally freeing itself from the minute duties of guidance on the lands. Though, the time of day played no quarrel to the wandering mind, allowing those to drift well into the nights rising. A faint song began to lull along the vast air, bouncing about in an echo to create a harmonized mystery. The words were of bliss and joy, a voice of tranquility just dancing in the winds. This set of sounds escaped the plush lips of a sweet persona, a body of unique and curve. The voice was something that kept that essence like form going, the woman wandering along the rocky trail as she followed the slopes of the cliff side. A voyage to the tip top of the rumored beauty, a curious mind to be sedated. She’d manage to reach the top, allowing those doe-like hues to widen at the sight, a truly breath-taking moment. Below sat the scenery of Iwagakure, the weaves and shapes of streets, buildings and the wall itself. Mesmerized, the woman simply gawked at the true sight to behold. That melodic song ceased its hymns, feeling the sounds fade in their vibrato as she’d dawn at the canvas, the art being the heart-stopping view.
Her hands moved to rest at the side of her ivory coloured gown, gently twining her fingers into the silken fabrics of her wear. The woman appeared to be a rather unique form, standing a mere five foot four and adorning a dress rather than the taboo of constricting wears others of her kind would. The dress was accompanied by a sweet heart neckline and a cloak that tied at the nape of her neck. The cowl of that cloak covered over her head to protect most of her cranium. The fabric rested to the mid of her hairline as the thick lock of ebony spooled out into large and loose ringlets, shaping her more round, adorable face. She had the chubby woman’s features, a heavier set weight versus an agile body. Her skin was a sun -kissed peach being littered in freckles to dust along her pigments, setting well with this fawn like hazel eyes of her. Over all, she appeared rather innocent against the harsh environment. The woman admired the view before turning on her feet, moving her cloak to grasp a bag; that was strapped along her back, and set it to the ground. In quick, she’d kneel and adjusted her stance so that she was sitting upon her knees. Her hand was quick to sprawl her gown out to ensure it wasn’t snagging on the ground. Once settled, she’d pull the satchel close and pried open the buckle and cover to reveal the contents of her bag. Her right hand held the satchel open while the left pushed in and dug about for that inkwell, brush, and loose parchment. Upon success, she’d pull the trio from the bag and set them aside.
Her left hand was delicate in its motion, allowing the fingers to gingerly handle the scriptures brush whilst the right pried open the ink well. With ease, she’d dip the tip into the inkwell and began to write down onto the parchment, allowing her eyes to focus on the words she wrote. She seemed rather into it, allowing the world to escape her as she indulged in her words. Though, it was not long till she’d pause, moving the brush from the paper and dipping it into the inkwell once more, being rather cautious to avoid letting the ink drip onto her pristine coloured gown. It was a skill, or so it felt like. An art to ensure one did not suffer the dreadful feeling of cleaning out ink from their wear. Her gaze dared to loom from the parchments, dawning to the rocky filled view of the lands. It was different from home, the colourful grains now formations of greys and murky earthen colours. ”Change certainly is not easy, especially when you’ve been in such a lively land most of your life..”she’d speak aloud, her voice rather charming to the sound. She seemed uncertain of her placement, almost feeling more outcasted than she was at home. Though, when the thought crossed her mind, she’d find herself glancing down to the paper, seeing the ink drip from the brush tip and soaking into the parchments textures once more. The notion itself allowed the dark colour to bleed through the layers and leave little room to finish her thoughts. A simple furrow of her brows came into play as she’d set the brush into the ink well and took the papers in tow. “..There goes some expenses…” a faint sigh escaped the plush lips, the plump woman feeling defeated in the moment. “If I didn’t know any better. I’d say the world certainly wishes no luck to play into my favor..”. She’d throw the papers aside, letting them catch in the wind and flounce about in it’s hold.
Word Count: 877
Character Count: 4700
Last edited by Tamae on Tue May 29, 2018 12:00 pm; edited 1 time in total