Sep 7, 2014
Wanderlust
During her sojourn in Pamira, Sizari visited the Arena every day. She had been traveling for two months already, and the Arena reminded her of home. It wasn't the action she was looking for, but rather the brief moments of inaction in between clashes of Pamiran gladiators in dazzling garb. Those moments played out in slow motion, allowing the remnants of sound and color to wash from the center stage all the way to the far corners of the Arena, just as the rough waves crashed against the rocky cliffs in her homeland. There was a brief lull in the rhythmic cheers of the majority-Pamiran crowd, their bodies and voices rising and falling like the erratic winds on top of the Stela Cliffs.