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Description

[Image: Sentin stands with her back to the blaze, as the people of the Makailin Rim flee Motu's army. She holds a fellow exile in her hands, a monarch butterfly.]
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"Look to the wanderers; the Akiat rejoice in their journey, delight in their silent victories, their secret dramas. They grieve when their wings become tattered and fail, mourn when they fall off that sacred path and fail. But how could they hope to extend that compassion to us, when they refuse to afford it to themselves?"

"They see something in them that they cannot bear to see in themselves. They've lost their way."
"No, they have lost that lostness. That is the lie they tell themselves, in their inertia-- that exile is anything but the human condition."
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Hi, sorry it's been quiet. Got something a little different coming your way shortly. Other than that: trying out a new program after using a pared-down version of PS for years and years and it's... it's something

Description

[Image: Sentin stands with her back to the blaze, as the people of the Makailin Rim flee Motu's army. She holds a fellow exile in her hands, a monarch butterfly.]
◆

"Look to the wanderers; the Akiat rejoice in their journey, delight in their silent victories, their secret dramas. They grieve when their wings become tattered and fail, mourn when they fall off that sacred path and fail. But how could they hope to extend that compassion to us, when they refuse to afford it to themselves?"

"They see something in them that they cannot bear to see in themselves. They've lost their way."
"No, they have lost that lostness. That is the lie they tell themselves, in their inertia-- that exile is anything but the human condition."
◆

Hi, sorry it's been quiet. Got something a little different coming your way shortly. Other than that: trying out a new program after using a pared-down version of PS for years and years and it's... it's something