Strolling on a Monday Afternoon (Amber)

[DoS Archive]

From: ambermyst@aol.com (Amber Myst)
Date: 19 Oct 1998 15:19:19 EDT


Pressing her way past the bustling crowds, Amber left the docks at a brisk step, making her way in a straight path to the skyline of buildings she once sensed by feel in the dark. Padding softly on feet encased in leather of an unnatural pallor, she stopped short, just outside of a nondescript door bearing the logo of the Duel of Swords Arena, and paused, taking a breath as she reflected upon her
past.
Wind swept the alleyways, gathering up her cestnut curls as well, before dropping them against the creamy skin of a neck and shoulder now free of the markings she'd worn so long denoting her as Lupa of a small but influential tribe of the Fiannas. Their war was ended now, the lupanar safe, protected,...as was her son, firmly recognized as leader after Harbard. Her work finished for now, wanderlust had as always when the dust died down, directed her
to other paths once again.
Continuing onward, she finally reached her goal, the news boards of the Arena. She skimmed them quickly, stopping only as her eyes flaired in a strained version of hot pain. Darkly amused, she closed them to clear while admonishing...

"Serves me right for absorbing prattle. I knew better. If this is the news, then God help what passes for invention."

Discouragement arguing against her natural sunny nature, she lifted a small hand to her temple and blocked the ache with a small push of cool power. Hers was not of lupine origin as she now understood, but existed outside of it,... just another thing she had to deal with, and soon.

Her current options limited, she drew forth a small kriss knife..last seen in the service against the throat of marauder of her homeland. As swords become plowshares, it now became an able servant for tacking up a note, hardly more than a postscript to the far side of the boards.

Seemed a lovely day for a walk. As memories crowded my thoughts, so did they lure me this way once again to check the pulse of the Arena. In odd moments, I have missed it sorely, along with those of you who were my comrades and still remain to read these thoughts and remember me. Especially you Dear Leto. Time has never erased the sweetness of your memory. I have
prayed for your happiness and the contiuing glory of the COV. If your eyes perchance light upon these words, I hope they recall the same with affection.
My true hope is that this short message finds you all well, and harmony in reigh. Ok..so I'm being facetious. Home was dysfunctional when I left, I see it still remains. ::smile:: So's life. Enjoy it.

Amber of the Mysts~
Bard to the Stars

[DoS Archive]

From: sidarthae@aol.com (Sidartha E)
Date: 20 Oct 1998 00:36:07 EDT

::catches a glimpse of a long-forgotten but distinct handwriting as she passes through the piles of argument and counter-argument::

::both eyebrows raise as she reads the signature::

<w> The lady has returned...perhaps I should seek her out..

::flips passed Amber's note, thinking of all that had happened between them::