61st of Searing, 120
She'd been back in Loras for a few days now; it was the longest she'd settled in one place since she left home, and she was mostly glad for it. Granted, she'd had a lot of adventures on the roads between where she was and the free cities, but it wore down on her. She was tired and needed to rest her weary feet and mind. Furthermore, she'd seen combat; her blood had been drawn by those that sought to do her harm. So much had changed since she left the small lumbering village of Clearwater.
As tired and worn as she was, Khan had decided it best to give her a few days to recuperate and recover her strength. So, she had no training scheduled for the day. It was something she'd long since grown unfamiliar too, being bored. Almost every day for the past two years, she'd been shopping, traveling or learning. And now, she had nothing to do but heal and recover.
She sat upon a tree stump in a shallow forest. A hefty greataxe rested on the bear-pelt kilt of her lap. In her other hand? A whetstone. Maintaining her weapon was important, so she sharpened the freakishly large axe while she thought on her recent encounters. It was a good opportunity to unwind and clear her head of all the less pleasant happenings. But she still found herself restless.
Magna was a girl of action, and sitting for too long in one place numbed her mind. With a grunt, she pushed to her feet, and put the axe and stone to one side. Her legs were still stiff with fatigue, but it wasn't anything that would stop her from moving if she needed to. With a big, full stretch of her body, she sighed, then moved toward Pacheco, her tan and cream horse, who was grazing off the forest floor.
The giant was dressed in simple fur garments including a kilt, a vest, some bracers and boots. Her bright red hair stood stark against the dark browns of the pelts. Her silver eyes carried a certain curiosity that ached to be fulfilled and a distinct enthusiastic energy. She stood a little over seven feet and eight inches tall that day. And unknown to her, she continued to slowly grow as the months went by.
The forest was relatively thin, with a canopy that allowed a lot of sunlight through, which only served to brighten the vibrant greens of the grass and brush below.
Pacheco looked up from his munching while she approached the stallion, then shut his eyes with a snort as her large hand brushed through his mane.
There, in the woods, she was at peace. There wasn't much to bother her, which conversely meant that there wasnt much excitement going on at the same time. With a sigh, she looked up from her horse, and peered across the thin forest...
She'd been back in Loras for a few days now; it was the longest she'd settled in one place since she left home, and she was mostly glad for it. Granted, she'd had a lot of adventures on the roads between where she was and the free cities, but it wore down on her. She was tired and needed to rest her weary feet and mind. Furthermore, she'd seen combat; her blood had been drawn by those that sought to do her harm. So much had changed since she left the small lumbering village of Clearwater.
As tired and worn as she was, Khan had decided it best to give her a few days to recuperate and recover her strength. So, she had no training scheduled for the day. It was something she'd long since grown unfamiliar too, being bored. Almost every day for the past two years, she'd been shopping, traveling or learning. And now, she had nothing to do but heal and recover.
She sat upon a tree stump in a shallow forest. A hefty greataxe rested on the bear-pelt kilt of her lap. In her other hand? A whetstone. Maintaining her weapon was important, so she sharpened the freakishly large axe while she thought on her recent encounters. It was a good opportunity to unwind and clear her head of all the less pleasant happenings. But she still found herself restless.
Magna was a girl of action, and sitting for too long in one place numbed her mind. With a grunt, she pushed to her feet, and put the axe and stone to one side. Her legs were still stiff with fatigue, but it wasn't anything that would stop her from moving if she needed to. With a big, full stretch of her body, she sighed, then moved toward Pacheco, her tan and cream horse, who was grazing off the forest floor.
The giant was dressed in simple fur garments including a kilt, a vest, some bracers and boots. Her bright red hair stood stark against the dark browns of the pelts. Her silver eyes carried a certain curiosity that ached to be fulfilled and a distinct enthusiastic energy. She stood a little over seven feet and eight inches tall that day. And unknown to her, she continued to slowly grow as the months went by.
The forest was relatively thin, with a canopy that allowed a lot of sunlight through, which only served to brighten the vibrant greens of the grass and brush below.
Pacheco looked up from his munching while she approached the stallion, then shut his eyes with a snort as her large hand brushed through his mane.
There, in the woods, she was at peace. There wasn't much to bother her, which conversely meant that there wasnt much excitement going on at the same time. With a sigh, she looked up from her horse, and peered across the thin forest...
