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Contemplation
Gunther met the morning light with the same vigil he had for the past weeks. The island glowed softly to meet the dawn, the various animals waking up to begin their own days. This was a safe place, though there was ever the threat of the unknown. And so Gunther looked, and thought. Life had, to some extent, become routine. Every day started this way, and they all ended the same as well. It was comfortable, but that was due to change. After all, change was on the wind.
Aeolian lay quiet now, in contrast to the hurried work of Gunther's friends from before. Julien had spoke of great nations rising in the world, of treaties and wars, of their own group finding such prominence. Then everyone boarded that airship, the Nimitz, and sailed off to find such fortunes. Gunther was glad to see them working so hard, but countries yet held little interest for the young druid. Kiwike was yet plagued, and politics would only prove a distraction.
Gunther clambered down the vines that hung from his home tree, and began to inspect the hedge that bordered the isle. It wasn't long before he came to the edge of the rift. A relic of Girru's efforts yet lingered withing: A portal to the Nether. Soon enough, it would be time to explore that forsaken place. Julien had promised aid, but- well, politics already seemed to be distracting.
[[Hey everyone. My internet at home has been almost nonexistent, and that's why I haven't been very active. But I'm alive, and intend to stick around.]]
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