Desreal: To each their own; ANYONE

adapt or perish;
now as ever;
is nature`s inexorable imperative;

Rowan was to new to life, to this world. Her golden eyes scanned the horizon, casting one fleeting glance behind her as she kissed the world goodbye. She was a wanderer by nature, and by blood. Rowan was bred into the very elements that formulated her being. Fire, Lightning, Water, Air, and Earth. Oh her beloved Earth. The elements were the formula, and Rowan was the after product.

She was bold, feisty, strong minded, and fierce. Rowan did not take orders well. She was a shadow, a fleeting image that was bittersweet until the end of time. Wild and untamed she came to Desreal, the trees clinging to her body as she weaved through the dark forest. Her pale locks were spun fiercely around her frame. She could taste freedom, and it called her name. Rowan answered with the freedom only youth can know.

Smouldering she stands before you, a rebel, and a rogue until her dying day. She is not naļve; she knows she can never truly be free. But this was as close as she could get to it; and no one could take that away from her. Her youth was her freedom, and like all things it would come to an end. She would have to grow up, choose a side, and become ‘great’. But that time was not now. Not yet.

The darkness is thickening around her, and where many would flee, Rowan does not. The earth grounds her, stabilizes. Erases all traces of fear before they manifest. She is darkness, cunning. Smiling she weaves towards the meadow, and that is when she hears it.

Snap

The cracking of a branch, the death in the earth. Rowan snarls, her element reaching out with full force and mending the branch. She is not as arrogant she would lead you to believe. She is soft, loving. A nurturer. She simply hated closed minded idiots who killed her woods. She watches for the approach of her intruder, only a silver silhouette in the darkness.

R O W A N

Slv. Zakr x Ap. Aian | Earth III