xxxxxI WANT TO XXXXX ⊱ [ FLY ]XXXXXIN THE SKY LIKE A SWALLOWTAIL BUTTERFLY.
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Ｓound was ever present in the world of man. Frequencies of all variations passed through ears by the thousands, each one having their own significant tone and voice. Reverberating was what they did best, though only a select few could reach into the vast well of the human heart, giving light to the bottomless pit that was engrained within society's core. Footsteps made their way through the deserted fields of a forsakened area. A lone figure had appeared from the shadows, distaste touched the lips of both the shadows. The sky was clear yet frost had done it's job well, the ground decorated in a clear layer of white water crystals. Crisp whisps of cold breath seeped out of the half open mouth of the woman who made her way through the scenery. Such beauty even in the winter. Perhaps the garden had deserved it's title at being one of the best three in Japan. Even in the absence of color or hue life in a way flourished. A few heads of shrubbery peeked out of the cold cover as well as a few trees that just refused to give up their leaves just yet. For they had braved the long winter, what was the reason to give up just then neh? Should they have lasted this long, they might as well trudge right through until they are able to greet the spring and it's warmth. That was what the figure thought. A bird fluttered in it's perch somewhere, another fellow animal mimiced the action. As the figure walked about the garden she recalled a report, no rather a story of urban legend. Long when storm riding was just but a myth, barely even starting out, there was but a confrontation. Two characters took part in this long forgotten fable. A warrior of mother earth herself and a bard whom dedicated himself to the muses. Both wandered the world in search of what they desired the most. One day, both to happen across each other. The bard was currently at the time busy with his affairs, one might say that he was merely minding his own business, enjoying nature in it's entirety. However for reasons unknown the mighty warrior beset herself to attack the bard, rumors say that part of the conflict was partly the bards part for having a rather sly and uncouth tounge. The two engaged in combat, blows exchanged with each other, their hearts put into each blow and strike. Surpassing sound itself such a melody as their battle could not be described with a sea of well placed notes nor honey sweet words sung from an angel. Alas, in the end the muses had abandoned the bard. The warrior won in their fight, oddly though however remaining beside the bards corpse until someone noticed. The bard was taken away, most likely for burial, leaving behind the fighter of earth. A bitter ending, but that was how life went. There were to be disappointments form time to time, though the figure was quite curious as to what did the bard remark that caused the warrior to go into such fury as to engage battle, he was only a bard after all. The wind whipped up once more, reassuring something that was not there except the figure, a young woman dressed in the most noble of blues. Aside from the vegetation in the area, she was the one who stood out the most in the white wonderland that bit at warm exposed flesh. A gloved hand swept aside a couple locks of hair to restore her vision, eyes colored the same glorious chroma as her dress if not a brighter shade mixed with a bit of peculiar purple contrasted well with pale near white skin -- alabaster. Omninously did they glimmer in the light, at first sight screaming the negative adjective "devious". From her bosom the woman withdrew a sort of a locket. It was rather round, silver, and a ticking noise emminated from it. The young lady stared at it while withstanding the frigid air only to stow it away from once it came. At the moment she was beside the lake which had frozen over. Should she have liked she could have easily traversed across but common sense willed not to and so the female turned away slowly to angle herself in her next destination. There was a swishing of cloth, the whisper of wind, and exhale of a determined cold hearted individual. Within milliseconds the lovely marine colored lady was gone, leaving behind only foot prints.
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Additional Comments: Layout still incomplete. Top and lower portions looking sparse.
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