closed.

[luaithre]

WHO: Marcus Rowntree, Tsenka Abendroth
WHAT: An attempt at communication.
WHEN: A little amorphous, subject to change.
WHERE: The rocky shores of dreaming.
NOTES: Violence

Finding him (in the way Tsenka finds people) is a little like locating an expected step in the dark. A lurch, followed by sure footing, a moment of stillness, and then—

Sunlight, a golden shard of it, cutting through a fog that doesn't burn away.

Not fog. Ash, swirling, whisper-soft on the skin. The stuff that is made of any manner of things but turns into something unrecognisably the same as all else that is capable of burning. It is more the leavings of fire than it is the thing that was burned, and now, it dusts over Tsenka's hands and hair and clothing and face as shapes move around her.

Not shapes, but a place. Distant mountains, trees, figures, buildings, all easing along beside her as if she were moving. It is not the clarity of sharp-hewn memory of a sleeping mage, a familiar one, but a grey muddle, with only the memory of solid ground beneath her feet as a tangible force.