Up the river from where the Dragoness had been lounging, there was indeed something interesting for her to find, and so far from a town or city. It was a lovely place, this whole forest, with the river... lovely beyond words, and it had attracted a creature not normally found there... but then, where exactly did this one belong...?
Curious... she had no home. It did not matter to this one. Few things did right then, alone in that vast forest. This being was a woman, and a human at that, dressed in the simplest of clothings, a single-piece, tattered dress made of brown burlap on her body with a rope tied about her waist, and simple leather moccasins, handmade, resting on her feet. The way she moved, dancing in the shallows of the snaking river, suggested her ease and carefreeness... she was alone, but unafraid, even in the presence of the beasts and creatures of the wood.
She seemed as if she were talking, but her voice was raised upward, not in speech, but in song, as if a prayer to the sky. It was as lovely as she, her voice, as it echoed through the trees and bubbled with the water in which she walked in spite of the path that had been carved ages ago on the river's bank. Her voice carried the notes kindly, and the words with a lightness, even as she spoke in a foreign tongue wholly alien to the reigon.
"Como Espiritu del Aire, Solitario va,
Ocultandose en la noche, Buscando su probio lugar..."she sang, her words hanging in the air like the note she maintained, lilting and gentle, like a mother's song to her child, a lullabye. She began again once the note carried to its end, calling out
"Como Espirtu del Aire, Que solo se siente volar!
Como Espiritu del Aire, Que solo se escucha cantar,
Larai larai, Solo buscando un lugar!"As she sang, she paused, raising her hands to the sky, her eyes shut tightly.
"Libera su alma,
Libera me!"She cried in joy, to the sky, as if it were her mother, or perhaps her beloved. Her voice elves could envy, raised in adoration of seemingly the sky itself. It was then her amethyst eyes slid open, and she, for the first time, saw the dragoness. She did not stop singing, but she did stop walking, watching the creature with her big, expressive violet eyes.
Her voice raised again, hands falling to her sides, her eyes, full of gentleness and serenity, trained on the dragoness the whole while.
"Como Espiritu del Aire, Solitario va,
Como un sueño de la noche,
Que nunca veras descanzar
Descanzar... Como Espiritu del Aire,
Buscando su sueño alcanzar,
Como Espiritu del Aire, Se ve al volar!"It was then as if she were singing to the dragoness, hands clasped tight in front of her, nicked and bruised from travel on the road, like much of her body. She seemed transcendant of her travel wounds, though, dirty, but somehow impervious to it all, like how an ancient tree looks somehow immune to everything around it, yet a part of it all.
(If you don't know the song, here's a good link:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=pykcUqB68XM& ... ed&search= )
