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Caravan Of Travels // Menaezaen

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Caravan Of Travels // Menaezaen

Post by Guest on Thu Apr 03, 2014 7:05 pm

Shadow stretched her fingers, meeting the wall with her eager hands. The caravan was very small, she could stand and touch all four walls from the center of the room. But, not really, as it was rectangular in shape, and she'd have to take a few steps to touch the other wall. She lived in the caravan with her little bird, Menaezaen. His perch a mere twig above her own beddings, delicatly coming out of the wall itself as if woven into the wood work. Decorated in carvings, long stretches of leather cord dangled from their ties, holding jewels and sparkling gems before Shadow's drowsy eyes. Shadow didn't typically sleep, it wasn't something she usually did, but as time wore on, she came to like the bliss that came with the shutting of one's mind to the whole of the world and simply taking a short break from the stresses that life had to offer. Colored quilts were tucked in and around Shadow, and she'd long since wondered how or why such things happened. It wasn't her, and it wasn't Meneazaen, as a little bird hadn't the capability to tuck the corners of the blankets beneath her. The woman sat up, looking towards the obviously sleeping blue bird, his head ducked into his colored feathers and he snored lightly.

Not wanting to wake him, Shadow simply moved the patched quilt aside and stood. Her bedding was just a blanket and patched pillow on the floor, which she moved into a woodenly carved cabinet when the nights were done, or when she was no longer in the interest of having a rest. Light spilled through the doorway, and Shadow stepped lightly, pushing open the door and easing her bare feet onto the the cold soil. A babbling crook ran in front of the colored caravan, and Shadow snatched a half buried bowl from the earth. Standing, she walked to the creek and crouched to the side, rinsing the dirt out and refilling it with cool and fresh water. Shadow didn't need food, didn't need water, but she knew Menaezaen was thirsty in the morning. At nights she often tied the golden strand to the perch, so he was unable to fetch it himself. Shaking the dirt from her feet slightly, flashbacks of morning with David Hill ran through her head. Nothing to terrible, really, he'd mostly just wanted her immortality, she supposed. Still, Shadow ignored the flashbacks, shaking her head and telling herself that he'd changed.

Because he had. Over time, they'd changed one another in the hundred years that they had lived in the travelling caravan. Doing adventures, having fun and keeping each other's company. And eventually the precense of others speaking her own language became a strange sight for her. The code that she and Menaezaen used was a short and simple one, one that no one could lie in. No flattery was used, no manipulating words twisted the realities. But.. There were only short statements. No announcments of opinion on his part, no major contributions to the subject. Though it influenced her to be far more talkative then she had been with David Hill. Besides, she was used to it now.
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