you're Crashing, But you're No Wave -- [William]

[Isolde Cricton]

The first sense came was the tingling of her fingers, as the water shaped around them and tickled her along they're edges. Beneath her palms she felt the warmth of the wet sand, but there was also a slight coolness to it. She could smell the salt from the water and the freshness of the air; as the breeze swept by her head trying to dry her wet golden head. Her mouth had tastes of salt and sand, her tongue ran over her lips seeking moisture and all she got was the awful taste and the desire for fresh water. As she spat out what she could, her eyes began to open. Her sight was merely the sand at first. Isolde lifted her hands to wipe the extra sand from her mouth. Then Isolde sat up with effort. What Isolde saw was a small patch of beach around her with rocks and sand. She could already notice she had not been here before, but she hadn't realised it wasn't Ireland just yet.

She turned her head and saw a large darkened forest behind her. As her eyes focused she noticed a small path winding itself deep within the mouth of it, with what seemed like glitter around it. As if enticing someone to take it. It was then she realised she was alone, she had been on a ship and came off somehow. She must be some where in Ireland, with that she stood. A little too quickly that she lost her foot a little and made her dizzy, but she managed to stay her ground. She looked more closely around her.

~Now which way?~

She whispered to herself as she tried to figure it out, she needed to at least figure out exactly where she was before knowing which direction she needed to take. Her eyes caught something stuck on the rocks by the shore where waves were trying lap it back into the ocean. Happiness came to Isolde as she recognised it to be her bag she carried with her. She slowly made her way; trying not to fall back down again. Snatching it just in time before the ocean could grab it, but Isolde tripped; causing her to fall backwards. Letting out laughter as she was now covered in even more sand and water. Her once knitted blue gown was not so blue nor clean again. She began brushing the sand off again as she got back to her feet. It was in that moment her eyes managed to glance over the vast ocean where she saw land that was not Britannia as she would have expected it to be. *No, No way!* Rang through her mind. It was Ireland she was spotting. Which meant only one thing. Where was she?

She turned around her as she flung her carry bag over her shoulders and looked over at what she could see of this land. In that moment she knew, not having actual proof, but she just knew. She was in the old Roman lands. This was Britannia. Her most desired dreams; now becoming REAL!!!

Perhaps she was still just dreaming, but no this was no dream. She could feel it in her bones that this was real and she could swear to any that she could feel the lands speaking to her heart; in riddles and poetry. Things of such beauty and wonder, that you were begging for it to be so. For a moment that seemed like many she stood there breathing it all in. Not realising what problem this could bring.

The Princess of Ireland on the shores of Britannia, she could just imagine what her father would be thinking if he knew. Her sweet dream would be his nightmare, she just knew it. So she could only really imagine how the people of Britannia would do to her. For as long as she can remember they were the great enemy of Ireland and she knew the perils her father had put upon them. They wouldn't take her kindly she would imagine, but perhaps it was just that Stories. She was never going to know if she just stood here and the chances of her swimming back to Ireland; alive were slim. Yes, she knew the search party would be out or perhaps she had already been labeled dead. That she could not know. Isolde kicked herself! She was on the edge of her dream, she would be foolish not to peek for more. Was her chance at something more simple at the end of this path?

Before long she brought herself together, with a latent breath and a last glance of Ireland, her home. Isolde began her journey through the woods to a land she hoped be, what she always dreamed and more would be. This was always around the time she feared in her dreams that leaving Ireland meant leaving everything behind, even her mother. It wasn't! Isolde knew it. She felt her mother alongside her. Within herself. Which gave her that courage to finally leave Ireland behind and face her Destiny!


So Isolde began her journey along the winding path, Ireland and shore behind her slowly disappeared. Where it was once mid morning seemed to slowly darken as forest began to hid the sun above, but there were still glimmers of it peaking through the leaves. Just as a reminder, but for the most part it was quite a dark forest this was a difference to Ireland. There was also something magical. She had heard of magic from her father and whispers within her kingdom, but not much resided in Ireland. Or at least she was to believe. She was more or less out of touch with even the concept of it.

No, The princess took to the natural ways of herbs and medicines. That was something she could understand very well. She was already noting plants she knew as she strolled along the path and then beginning to see plants she didn't quite know. As 45 minutes past and the glimpse of the shore disappeared; along with Ireland. Isolde was now completely within Britannia. Another hour and it was then she noticed a change. She heard sounds that she couldn't say was from an animal or not. Realising now she really didn't know much about anything of Britannia. She had only ever really envisioned the good things that could be here, that she didn't stop to think of the bad.

She quickened her pace and kept silent, but more observing now. Never leaving the path before her. As the hours went by she could not tell what time it was now and she was beginning to think whether this path was ever going to end. A breeze from her left began to role through the forest with her dress still being damp, she began to get cold. She dug in her bag which to her surprise remained dry inside whilst in the ocean. Her hand felt around to books and goods, until she found a finely knitted light shaded blue shawl. It wasn't overly fancy, but it had a touch of Irish design to it. Which was common to her people. Draping it along her shoulders and Isolde hugged it tightly. Continuing her journey Isolde was hoping soon she would come to some end to this forest, before she would have spend the night in here. For now she had no protect and no knowing what was out there. She was as of now, ALONE!

[William Fowlent]

William watched as the crescent moon began to appear from behind a cloud. The world around him began to darken as he ran into the Darkling Woods.
His run turned into a walk as he realised that nobody was following him anymore. Most of the guards where scared of this forest, and he doubted that the king would bother sending guards after him this late at night.
William knew this forest like the back of his hand. He used to come here as a child, when he lost his family. It was like a home to him. He walked a bit further into the forest, just incase Uther did decide to send someone after him, and then he quickly climbed up a tree.
The rough bark scrapped his knee, but that sharp pain was like a close friend to him, and reminded him that he was home.

His plan hadn't gone exactly as he had hoped.
He had managed to turn Sasha into a wolf, but she had got away, and though he had planted the seeds of distrust towards Uther into her head, he doubted that she would end up killing Uther as he had hoped. She was too head strong and smart, and she would probably learn how to control the abilities he had given her.
He would need to find a new pawn in his plan.

He heard a rustling below, and saw a young lady walk pass the tree he was seated in.
She didn't look like she was from here, Camelot, and from the way she was walking (alone, at night) it seemed that she probably didn't meant to be here.
A plan formed in his head, and William, being as impulsive as he was, jumped down from the tree and landed in front of the lady.
"Good evening, my lady." he said with a bow. He wasn't sure if she was a true 'lady' or not, but politeness always helped when acquiring a new pawn.

CREDITS! Template By Arro @ Caution!

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[Isolde Cricton]

It was awfully quiet t that Isolde didn't know where the breathing sound was coming from at first. Isolde jumped at one point and stood very still. Her eyes shifted throughout the forest. Listening, very carefully she realised how stupid she must be looking. It was her own breathing she was hearing. With that she let out a laugh. Not long after she heard a growl and a howl. Which meant she had to continue on. Perhaps that light blurry thing in the distance was hope, that she was nearing a village, but it could be and Isolde hoped not to be a pair of eyes glaring at her. No, Isolde wasn't all familiar with monsters and Magic, but there still plenty bad in this world that could prove even more deadly. So Isolde needed to keep a keen sense about her.

A few more minutes drove Isolde on, as she slowly got her breath and she stopped having the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She began to feel the salt around her tongue again and the need for water again. She guesses it was either the excitement of her dream coming to life or the near scared attacks of the unknown which made her forget her thirst. Well, it had reminded her now, but Isolde wasn't game to trail off this path. Isolde guessed the drink would have to wait for now. To help get her mind off of it, she though of poems, you know the ones that really stuck with you and for Isolde there were plenty of those. So it wasn't hard to come up with at least 5. The words flowed in her mind as if every time was for the first time and Isolde picture extraordinary things. Her imagination expanding. Feeling her hands pluck the beautiful gold strings of her harp. Her lips curled a little smile. Isolde was going to miss that harp. Maybe if she was lucky she could find one in Britannia. There Isolde went imagining things about this place as if she knew it. Even if she wasn't to know if she was welcomed.

'But in this world there still exist
Survivors who will always miss
The passion of their lovers' kiss
That warmed them night and day.
Though here above the vast, cold sea,...'

Isolde whispered the words so subtly that only the wind or if you were by her mouth to hear. Were there really anyone in this world that couldn't be moved by at least one poem. One must be completely soulless or never listened to a poem to not be moved by at least one line. One simple line that one up and mean something far more than it was intended to be. So Isolde strolled on whispering in poems and riddles. Analysing them as if to find even more truer meaning.

~No harm to you would I condone,
For I'd be left here on my own
To face this tragic world alone,
A fate far worse than death. ~

This verse, the last verse Isolde spoke a little more loudly and prominent with great intent. Even if she only had the wind and the trees to hear her. She had seemed to completely relax her mind that Isolde was even smiling. But her smiling soon disappeared as a man seemed to literally fall out of the sky and bowed quite poetically, to Isolde's surprise. She thought she had totally lost it, her poems were coming to life. No, this was real. A man eyeing her with politeness. Perhaps these woods were guarded. It would explain many things, but he didn't look like a guard. Not that Isolde even knew what one would look like in these lands. So far she noticed the beaches sand sparkles and the woods are darker than Ireland. Oh, and there are some strange echoing sounds besides Isolde's heavy breathing. Isolde slowly curtseyed as she contemplated what she should say over what she would want to say. There was no hiding she was from Ireland, the second she spoke would give it away, but who she was from Ireland she could be more protective of. At least for now. It wouldn't be long her father would send men to these parts seeking her, well that would be the loving side of a father to do and what a daughter would like to think would happen. This seemed to be the wise thing to do, she could for a moment even if it was brief have a more common life if she tried and it was safer for her, and Ireland she convinced herself.

~Sir... Evening? Well, how I've misjudged the time. I began not yet past midday on this path and still have reached no end. I must truly be lost... Forgive me, my name is Sibéal. I was travelling along the coast of Ireland and it crashed. I lost my balance and was pushed over board. So here I am. Which I'm not really sure where here is . Could you please tell me, Sir?~

Isolde gave a kindly lit smile with a thought, please forgive me, please forgive me. She wasn't one for lying and hear Isolde was lying about herself, her name. Perhaps she lied enough for him to believe her. She could only hope.