![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The morning in Shorelle is peaceful and cool.
Zera wanders around the house without hurrying, watching the sea, and the play of the wind in the long grass.
As the girl rounds the corner, she can hear the quiet sounds of movement. She looks up. Joar is training, focused intently on moving gracefully and precisely through the forms. He doesn't see her yet, concentrating. He has evidently been practising for some time, as his hair is slightly damp and his shirt has been discarded.
Rather awkward, she stops, wondering whether to go back inside. But it is almost time for breakfast, she might as well wait for him.
Zera wanders around the house without hurrying, watching the sea, and the play of the wind in the long grass.
As the girl rounds the corner, she can hear the quiet sounds of movement. She looks up. Joar is training, focused intently on moving gracefully and precisely through the forms. He doesn't see her yet, concentrating. He has evidently been practising for some time, as his hair is slightly damp and his shirt has been discarded.
Rather awkward, she stops, wondering whether to go back inside. But it is almost time for breakfast, she might as well wait for him.
