wanderinglost | (no subject)

(no subject)

[WELCOME TO THE AZIM STEPPE. perhaps you're there from a different ~~instance~~ timeline, or perhaps not. either way, there's a warrior of light xaela here who is sitting on the edge of the Dawn Throne, legs dangling off the cliff as she looks down over the Dotharl land. She's pretty conflicted! she also is dressed like a weirdo, and barefoot. And there's a rapier at her side, embedded in the ground so she can draw it quickly without it getting in the way while she sits.]

What a right pain this all is... They'll have the next me's head for this.

[Or maybe you're elsewhere! Ibakha the Wanderer can end up anywhere, so go nuts if you have somewhere else you'd rather she be.]

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[welcome, wanderer, to ... well, to a podunk village that is most easily called "run down" and "out of the way". actually, it's so far out of the way, it's practically the middle of nowhere. the handful of buildings that make up the village are scattered around a half dozen docks, running out into the dark sea. everything is wooden, old, and scarred by sea water, storm, and time. the people are bent backed and ragged, and tend to mind their own damn business. "tend to" - there's a few who stop and stare at anyone new or different.

even though that sign on the largest pier reads FERRY, and the newest (still old) galley ship is harbored and waiting paying customers to take across the open water, there don't appear to be many visitors.

but there is a girl who is very out of place. sitting in an old wheelbarrow, in a tea party length dress in pastel pink lace, with a charm bracelet on each wrist, sits she.

she is also barefoot, and wrinkling her nose at the mud, and I'm tired of writing so stealing your verbal response to hook on]

The next you? Is that so... ? How intriguing. I didn't know anyone could be more than themselves.

You know little, whoever you are.

[She looks this girl over, before taking in the surroundings.]

... I should not have wandered to the sea already. There should still be many malms to go. What manner of strange place is this?

Oh, I know.

[why does her face light up when she acknowledges that?]

So I must ask these kinds of questions, see? So that I can learn more.

[nope, she really is delighted by this, sincerely.]

Malm? Hmmm... No, I don't know. It's just the same as it's always been. This little town above the sea's cliffs has always been here. Well, as long as I've come here.

It should not be here.

[Her tail flicks angrily behind her.]

What is this place?

But why shouldn't it? It's pleasant here.

[she does not bat an eye, just looks confused and tilts her head]

It's a village. What else? They fish and live their lives.

There are many malms until the ocean. My feet will never lead me astray.

Therefore... I have been moved.

Malms again? But in my experience... feet can do that very easily. It's why I am here.

[she waves to indicate her wheelbarrow, dropping her hands to its rusted and sun bleached sides]

Moved here? There isn't anything to find.

My feet will not. I am Ibakha Wanderer, whose feet have touched all the land in the world.

Then... shouldn't you know where you are? If you have touched it all.

I should. Which is why I am so perplexed.

How terrible. But you've come here now.

Have you aught at all useful to say?

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