Silverbind

The wind had never smelled so sweet. Crimson leaves rustled and the sound of chimes rolled throughout the oaken forest. Cshira had never been so complete, so...at peace.
"Well, possibly once," she thought.

She could see her mother's smile in her mind's eye, the thought of perfection beyond that had never even occured. Those cat-like eyes peirced Cshira's soul to the deepest depth, giving her a feeling of safety. A feeling not held long enough.
The soft blue sky behind her mother's curvey locks of red hair became condensed with smoke and drowned screams overcame the silence.

She opened her eyes to patterns drawn in the grass, and her left fist full of living casualties of her nightmare.

Cshira found the bare patch and laid the torn pieces into the pile.
With her fingers gently resting ontop she spoke, "Szoridee gahorin...". A ripe, mossy glow pulsed between her hands and then dimmed as soon as it had started.
The remnants were lush with life again, as they should have stayed.


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