She'd heard the news from one of the regulars back at the central island, its familiar name circulating like wildfire from loner to loner. It perked her interest, that she could not lie, and figured to investigate the supposed rebirth of Boneclan herself. She'd spent the few years adapting to life as a vagabond, embracing several of the beautiful natural phenomenons across Agrelos and enjoying her youth without the hassles of commitment and clan politics. Most of the other loners she encountered were friendly, simple travelers like her, and the few that did choose aggression were rarely sizable enough to serve as any true threat. Yet with her vision continuing to worsen, trekking canyons and chasing tides was becoming too dangerous to truly enjoy. The bright blue eyes that allowed her to see so many wondrous sights were now the reason her free spirited journey was getting cut short. After years of holding nothing but brief friendships, apart of her was looking forward to building stronger bonds anyway.
Boneclan. The name brought back memories from her childhood, back to when she herself was still associated with a particular group. Scarclan, not Boneclan, but what did that matter now? All the other groups had changed so drastically over the years, they were all nearly unrecognizable compared to the past. She wanted a place more grounded to their roots, a place where she could settle down for once in her life and feel comfortable among a territory filled with others. So, here she was. A beautiful concoction of sarcasm, honey, and fire all swirled together to form the lithe form of Renaissance. The pale lioness would lower herself to what she assumed to be the border, her dilute orbs squinting as they struggled to make out the distant shapes. "Hello," she'd offer, voice like liquid sugar trickling from her maw. "I'm here to join."
partially blind | tags
violence causes silence