state lines [closed]

Steadily dissipating remnant of translucent white murk was quickly bleeding from liminal view under the gleam of a freshly-turned sun, the ever-cool breath of the riverwater webbing damp and persistent against the simmering backdrop of a slowly awakening forest. Silky tendrils of darkness curled across the cool whisper of a warm blue sky, greedy fingers of foliage, overly burdened with the remnants of a bountiful new season, rising above the general backdrop of the camp in a resolute stillness so often associated with early morning hours; soft sands dusted into deep hues of darkness under the slight shade cast. Shaky fog of his breath eagerly drifting away into the grander current of rapidly bleeding mists, Jayshriek remained idly perched against the weeping collections of reeds and ivies that heavily fringed the greater collective of the protective barrier, dark gaze fixed against the backdrop of a rapidly strengthening morning sky. Sleep had so often evaded him in the long days follow Asylum's initial collapse- the frightening taste of hot blood and suffering perpetually wed with the stubborn memory of muscle- so it was not uncommon to find the peculiar young tom huddled away in some proffered shelter or another, content to wait out the duration of the night.

Aquiline features shaded with the familiar touch of absence, Jayshriek's silky dark coated roiled under the weight of a faint dusting of dew, idle shifting belaying a faint sense of urgency. At least the prospect of a newly-arranged training session allowed him to push away the lingering awareness of a lack of sleep.