Solira: The Ocean: the dreary architecture of your soul

I'M A CURSE AND I'M A SOUND
WHEN I OPEN UP MY MOUTH.

Dawn evaporated swiftly, the rolling fog along with it. Altair was not used to the clinging sensation of sea and salt, nor was he used to the stiff coarseness of his pelt as he crossed the strands.

The beach. How different it was from Ni’Srilan.

He rolled his tongue around in his mouth, savoring the strange saltiness of the wind. His Air told him that this was right – this place. And his scar pulsed as it felt the close tug of the shard. He shivered in excitement, feeling the wind roughly course through his tangled mane. The shard pulsed in the back of his skull. This was the place his inner conscience had told him of.
Architecture
He had lived in many places before. This was another continuation in the chapter of his life. A new start was not so new, not to him. He wasn’t quite pragmatic, but he understood that the blossoming promise of new surroundings would, at least for a while, stifle the boredom and anguish he felt. He rolled his shoulders, a nonchalant expression on his face.

So…

A L T A I R

THERE'S A REASON I DONT WIN --
I DONT KNOW HOW TO BEGIN
ALSHAIN x GENESIS || AIR III