[ HERA ] :: D4 // CBD #1 // FIN

You stand at the edge of your home, your toes pressed against the cusp of where the sand and the ocean meet. The smell of brine and fish washes over you as the breeze washes over you, tangling your main of curly brown hair as you stare stoically at the line on the horizon.

The mainland- a place you assumingly only stepped foot on when whoever your mother was had you seventeen years ago, only to abandon you in a woven basket. It was a miracle that you washed a shore the island but the forgotten memory of those first few hours elicts fear in your soul, a swirl of anxious butterflies swelling in your belly.

Your fingers clutch at one of your many books, the feel of the leather bound hardback cover brings you comfort. There is something about your books, the ones of the Goddess, the poisions you make and the ones of the island, that brings you comfort. The pages speak silent words, words that neednt be spoken to be understood- you, yourself never have been able to speak. Shortly after you were found on the coast of the island, a fever almost took you. Even now your eyes are sensitive to the brightest of lights. You survived- but at the price that you cannot speak.

Your brow knits into a frown as the hair on the back of your neck prickles, a distant rumble filling the air. A storm- you think to yourself - the Goddess is bringing us a storm. On the edge of the world, beyond the headland of the mainland, grey clouds swirl in a tempest that is growing ever closer.