SOLDIER KEEP ON MARCHIN' ON | joiners

[aine.]

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— aine | loner | fae druid —

A small pout squished together somewhat chubby cheeks.  Bright, hazel hues raised up, large and pleading.  Aine felt fairly certain a butterfly was dancing just beyond the start of the treeline.  As it drifted, her eyes failing her as it grew fuzzier and fuzzier.  A disappointed murmur grew in her throat.

She was not one to question her father though.  It he said to stop, she stopped.  Yet restlessness drove her mad.  Petite black paws kneaded into the sand, ivory ears twitching.  After a few torturous seconds, Aine began to draw in the sand.  Simple shapes and images.  Designs resembling runes.  A butterfly.

How long were they waiting?  Why?  She continued to drag her paw through the sand, constantly throwing her father curious glances.

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— I'll come back when you call me —