Darkness lifted its mantle from the horizon, making way for the coming dawn and the dew that would lay itself gently on every reachable blade of grass and exposed leaf. The movement and sounds of nature filled the air like whispers of the encroaching day, awakening the sleepy laborer and traveler alike. Marina watched the movements of Serenwilde Forest pass by as she placidly sat in the Nintoba Naos, a place held sacred by that which she believed in. Her soft aquamarine eyes stared out into the forest, as she rested against a massive statue of a centaur that raised his spear in praise or perhaps a forgotten call. Marina's mane of blackberry hair kissed her round face before it fell about her in a flow of black and greys mixed together along the blades of grass that bent about her body. Memories of the passing night played about her innate vision, as her hands worked to break the night's stress from her palms. Even with her nearly-translucent skin, she hid easily with the soft tan gown that cascaded down her body in a whimsical twist of cotton and off-white trim. Laughter lines lined the edges of her eyes and mouth, along with stress lines apparent upon her curving brow. Even the breeze seemed to respect her introspective mindset, as it billowed just light enough to cause a gentle wind to come and caress her face every now and then.
Soon, the dawn had come and the day was apparently thereafter. Nature came alive with a vengeance, as squirrels and birds made their homes about the Nintoba Naos and went about their carefree day with nothing in mind save for the gathering of nuts or pestering some poor, hapless cat who might venture out of the Serenwilde Commune proper. The Elfen there always seemed to be rather poignant and forgetfull when it came to their pets, but never let it be said so. Marina couldn't help but chuckle to herself with the recollection of a cat she had been fond of being attacked directly by a family of squirrels. Only in the Seren, she thought to herself as she rolled her eyes with a hint of love for this home of hers. Though, the Commune never interested her. It was not what she called home. The Nintoba Naos, however, was. A short family history and yet, long enough to pass back into the strands of time and be forgotten mostly in the hands of the Fates, plagued her mind constantly. She always wondered who she was and where she had come from when she had been younger. Now she knew why the Nintoba Naos called to her that one eve. She knew why the statue she rested against now held his spear high. She knew what for and why. And in this knowledge, she had gained wisdom. Marina tilted her head back to look up at the face of the centuarian male, who's brows were as strong as thunderstorms and chin as stubborn and old as the Naos itself and even older. She felt kin to him, this Nintoba the centaur. She knew him, as he had known her ancestor. And now, she had come home. Where she had walked, she had tripped, but she was home. In the Naos, where the beliefs of Nintoba saught her out and spoke gently to her in dreams, visions, and quiet whispers from the wind that caught itself in the canopy of leaves above. She was home, and she had been who had walked here.
"Tar'Liem Saers," Marina spoke softly to the wind before it caught her voice up in a sudden gust of air, as if to raise it to the heavens and demand all those near to the Nintoba Naos listen. For a moment, the Naos was quiet. Until the same words echoed back to Marina. "She who walked."