Desreal: then there's nothing to fear, for i come from the sea, LEBANON

The moonlight flickered in her eyes. They gleamed a darkened shade of sapphire and portrayed emotions that were best left hidden. Her sides heaved softly. Her gaze was depth less as it tried to grasp onto something...anything around her. She could feel herself spiraling again. Whispers still swirled in her ears. She longed to escape the deafening roar of the ocean for it had consumed her. Deep pitches roaring louder and louder until she felt her knees would give way and she would surrender herself to it's will. She had not anticipated this silence though. A few fleeting moments and she would find which was worse.

Her memories had been scattered like the autumn leaves of the trees in a cool wind. She would have chased them if she could. Clung to them so tightly that her own breath choked from her body. If only... She was not young but there was a cloud of naivety that lingered over her head. Perhaps from the haze of her mind. Had she been wiser she might have lingered upon the sandy-warm shores of the sea; the familiar. Even now there were eyes upon her, eyes of unknown creatures that hungered. Her shoulder pressed deeply into the tree as her slender body swayed slightly. The rough bark dug in ardently but Datura couldn't feel it through her flesh that matched it's own. She stared into the dark swamp of night and accepted it. Her eyes fluttered closed in a hopeless attempt that they may find rest. Her body ached for sleep as her mind denied it. She would wait here pressed against the ancient tree. Her head swayed left and right in a compulsory motion.

She lost herself for ticking moments, but it was not to sleep. Her mind wandered away. Something stirred in the distance. Her eyes went wide grasping in the darkness as she waited for them to adjust. A figure appeared, silhouetted in the cascading light. She does not advance; she does not near this foreign thing. Instead, she peers – watches – observes with those curious, brooding eyes. The creature moved closer. Closer. Datura was still. Her body seamless with the tree she still pressed against. Datura could smell the desert sand that still licked the mare's hocks. Like a spider in it's web she waited fior the butterfly.

Only when the mare was nearly close enough to touch, only when the warmth of her breath would reveal her presence, did she stir. Her voice was soft and inviting, ”So far from home...” There was a strangeness to Datura's manner as her shoulder slunk and her sides heaved with too heavy breathing for someone who'd been standing for so long. She thirsted. Fire! The thought flashed in her mind. She could sense it. ”Why do you wander in these shadows?”

D A T U R A
Solemn at the wake, hand in hand with the devil, singing "Hallelujah"

EARTH III + LIGHTNING III
KEEPER
disjecta membra
.the delirium.