09-10-2019, 06:04 PM
[align=center]blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly
Alone. What was loneliness to someone who sought solitude? To one who grew tired and overwhelmed by the constant presence of others around her. An empty feeling in her gut, when the sun no longer touched her fur and the beach grew quiet. A nagging sense of a missing piece, even as she lifted her chin up, pale hues determined. She just wanted to be independent; to demonstrate she could take care of herself.The fae honestly didn't know her age. She barely hung onto the memories of her birth-place. The tastes and sounds. The constant rocking. She could barely recall the voices she once knew because they'd become entirely replaced by the Typhoon; she might as well been born here, she was so young when her father left his crew so they could live on land. While she remained the appearance of one still rather young, Keona hung onto the need to prove she wasn't a helpless, useless child.
Along with her quiet nature, the privateer found herself lingering in her own company more often than not. Not completely intentionally, but how could she complain of solitude when company wore her out quickly? An introvert's stress contradiction.
The tiny feline patrolled every so often, by herself, as per old habit. As every so often, she heard a voice this time around. Then another, somewhat more familiar. Soon Keona popped up behind Wormwood, blinking a pair of sightless sea-green hues towards a scent she did not know. "Aloha." Since Wormwood presented the typical inquiries, she fell silent, ears perked attentively.