As another loud roar of laughter went up around the fire Brenna quietly picked up her mug, her satchel and wandered a little bit away from the group. Nobody battered an eyelid at her leaving and continued with their stories and drinking. Brenna didn't dislike these kinds of evenings - they were some of her favourite moments on their trip Southwards but after a point her eyes grew more tired and slurred words became harder to read. It was somehow lonelier to be sat in the middle of the action and yet not understand what was going on. Besides, she enjoyed the moments to herself in the evenings. It gave her more time to work on the Signs but occasionally she would take the time to go for a swim or draw.
Her footfalls barely made a noise as she picked her way through the trees towards a small stream they had passed through on their way to their camping spot. She could still the glare of the fire and if anyone looked for her she wouldn't be hard to miss - she didn't have a death wish after all and they had faced enough problems on the road for her to value being close to the rest of the group. But it was enough distance that she felt separate from the group. Brenna dumped her satchel down in the snow and then sat down beside it in one fluid movement. She rummaged amongst the pieces of parchment and then pulled out some blank sheets and a piece of charcoal.
The night was beautiful. The moon hung low like a silver penny in the inky blue sky. Its light turned the snow a brilliant white and picked out the edge of every ripple and wave in the small stream. Opposite her the thick trees stood in a stark and contrasting darkness. Even with her keen vision it was hard to see much beyond the first row of sentries to the secrets beyond. The gentle breeze occasionally forced them to break their granite postures as it rushed between them and disturbed the pine needles like a mother might ruffle her child's hair.
The whole atmosphere filled Brenna with an innate sense of serenity. Her head bent over her page and she began to draw.
Her footfalls barely made a noise as she picked her way through the trees towards a small stream they had passed through on their way to their camping spot. She could still the glare of the fire and if anyone looked for her she wouldn't be hard to miss - she didn't have a death wish after all and they had faced enough problems on the road for her to value being close to the rest of the group. But it was enough distance that she felt separate from the group. Brenna dumped her satchel down in the snow and then sat down beside it in one fluid movement. She rummaged amongst the pieces of parchment and then pulled out some blank sheets and a piece of charcoal.
The night was beautiful. The moon hung low like a silver penny in the inky blue sky. Its light turned the snow a brilliant white and picked out the edge of every ripple and wave in the small stream. Opposite her the thick trees stood in a stark and contrasting darkness. Even with her keen vision it was hard to see much beyond the first row of sentries to the secrets beyond. The gentle breeze occasionally forced them to break their granite postures as it rushed between them and disturbed the pine needles like a mother might ruffle her child's hair.
The whole atmosphere filled Brenna with an innate sense of serenity. Her head bent over her page and she began to draw.