Post by paradoxpanda on Jun 27, 2011 16:49:19 GMT -5
Artemis tugged on the rigging line, her back straining as she did, the effort clear on her knotted brow as she pulled on the rope, the sails slowly sliding into position. The sun was still below the horizon, the distant orange light only beginning to break the inky night sky. Though the weather had been warm the past few days, a cool breeze had rolled In over the ocean, the early hour doing little to aid the temperature. But, it was a needed unpleasantness, if she was going to take advantage of the wind patterns. That, and she didn’t want to have to face any goodbyes. This place, for years, had been her home. But that was a long time ago. Home is where the heart is after all, and her heart wasn’t anywhere near here.
Looking over her ship, the young woman was struck with the weight of it all. The time she’d spent, long hours under the sun, fixing the vessel, rebuilding its damaged components, learning how all the pieces we’re put together. She was no shipwright, she didn’t understand how to build a boat. But she knew this ship. Knew every pin and bolt and plank of wood. It was a ship she’d poured herself into for so long, that now, with the finish line upon her, it seemed unreal that the moment was here. That, in just a few more minutes, she could cut the tether lines and rise up to the top of the world. She’d flown before, her power let her take to the skies as often as she wanted. Yet, all the same, this first flight filled her stomach with butterflies.
Looking over the railing, down at the ground, Artemis wondered if the one person she was waiting on would show. Part of her wished she didn’t. The journey that was about to begin was a long one, and there was no guarantee of safety. Yet at the same time, Artemis wasn’t sure she was prepared to make the journey alone.
Looking over her ship, the young woman was struck with the weight of it all. The time she’d spent, long hours under the sun, fixing the vessel, rebuilding its damaged components, learning how all the pieces we’re put together. She was no shipwright, she didn’t understand how to build a boat. But she knew this ship. Knew every pin and bolt and plank of wood. It was a ship she’d poured herself into for so long, that now, with the finish line upon her, it seemed unreal that the moment was here. That, in just a few more minutes, she could cut the tether lines and rise up to the top of the world. She’d flown before, her power let her take to the skies as often as she wanted. Yet, all the same, this first flight filled her stomach with butterflies.
Looking over the railing, down at the ground, Artemis wondered if the one person she was waiting on would show. Part of her wished she didn’t. The journey that was about to begin was a long one, and there was no guarantee of safety. Yet at the same time, Artemis wasn’t sure she was prepared to make the journey alone.