Post by Ratriee Agidel Szhiveni on Nov 23, 2009 14:46:03 GMT -5
Such is the life of a gypsy. To scater to and fro. To smile and look into people's hearts. It was not the life she had choosen, but it was rather the life given to her. Though... though, if given a choice, she would have choose it, above all else. To loose the freedom, the vast skies, the power that the blood holds... to give it all up, would be torture. But the freedom came with a price. Least one will dare to forget.
She pulled her shall tighter about her, and procided under the arch of the Citadel. This ancient city has still much to uncover to the public. It's secrets stretched through out history, and hidden by the passage of time. Unfortunately, everyone knew that time does not give up it's secrets easily. But, sadder yet, not many people were looking, instead prefering to be more occupied with other matters at hand. No one stopped to appreciate anything anymore.
Her heels clicked slightly on the old stone paved streets. The wind played with her loose hair and clothing. For once she was dressed somewhat for the occasion. Having escaped the shop early today, the young woman changed, putting on instead of her gypsy clothing something more normal. If such can be counted. She was wearing a long, red tunic embroidered with gold, with a dark red and gold threaded sash served as a belt. Under she has long, dark flared jeans, and red boots. Over that, concidering the weather, she has a red shall. Surpringly warm one too!
Her eyes lifted to the ancient clocktower. In a couple more minutes she'll have to migrate to the clocktower. It offered such a beautifull view. But for now... for now she got to wonder near empty streets of the Citadel, in near perfect silence. She always marveled at it's beauty. It's serine outside. But, that is always the case, one never knows what is going on inside, if the outside bares a smiling mask. But, even if the eyes could give it away, most are too stupid to look.
She took a deep breath. The cold air entering her lungs, and chilling slightly inside. Freedom, true freedom, is knowing where you are, but even if bound by something, knowing that your spirit may always rise above the chaos, and soar high above the land, to the meadows of home, where the tabor sings around the fire.
She pulled her shall tighter about her, and procided under the arch of the Citadel. This ancient city has still much to uncover to the public. It's secrets stretched through out history, and hidden by the passage of time. Unfortunately, everyone knew that time does not give up it's secrets easily. But, sadder yet, not many people were looking, instead prefering to be more occupied with other matters at hand. No one stopped to appreciate anything anymore.
Her heels clicked slightly on the old stone paved streets. The wind played with her loose hair and clothing. For once she was dressed somewhat for the occasion. Having escaped the shop early today, the young woman changed, putting on instead of her gypsy clothing something more normal. If such can be counted. She was wearing a long, red tunic embroidered with gold, with a dark red and gold threaded sash served as a belt. Under she has long, dark flared jeans, and red boots. Over that, concidering the weather, she has a red shall. Surpringly warm one too!
Her eyes lifted to the ancient clocktower. In a couple more minutes she'll have to migrate to the clocktower. It offered such a beautifull view. But for now... for now she got to wonder near empty streets of the Citadel, in near perfect silence. She always marveled at it's beauty. It's serine outside. But, that is always the case, one never knows what is going on inside, if the outside bares a smiling mask. But, even if the eyes could give it away, most are too stupid to look.
She took a deep breath. The cold air entering her lungs, and chilling slightly inside. Freedom, true freedom, is knowing where you are, but even if bound by something, knowing that your spirit may always rise above the chaos, and soar high above the land, to the meadows of home, where the tabor sings around the fire.