Wild Mage

She stood atop the pale blue ice, the color of her grandfather's eyes. Her eyes closed, she breathed in deep. She never felt at home in the warm places. The chill that filled her lungs brought peace and comfort. On the wind, she heard a voice familiar from childhood. "How could that voice be here? He's been dead for years." 

The shape grew from the rise, obscuring the sun before her. "Hello, little one." the voice was louder, kinder than she remembered, inside her mind. "Grandpa?" she questioned as the huge, silver shape folded its wings and rested gently in front of her. Her pale, tattooed hand reached to touch the face before her, a small finger brushing away a tear. "I've missed you." they each hear inside their minds, as the enormous wing stretches to enshroud her, soft purple energy sparked in the air.

- Player, Danielle H.