Mitsuya didn't immediately continue reading the scroll, instead pausing to linger over the surprisingly well-crafted little illustrations. The elegant simplicity of the drawings themselves, contrasted with the way they capered about on the paper--making cute little sounds, no less!--was something that couldn't fail to appeal to Mitsuya's own sense of aesthetics. She hoped that this was something she might learn herself someday; oh, the things she could do with it...
But however long she might have tarried there, she had to move on to the meat of the scroll itself. This time, at least, it wasn't a punch to the face--though she still had to pause in her perusal for several seconds, one hand delicately raised to her nose, while this new sensation of enlightenment worked its way through her system.
When she returned to the scroll, she couldn't help but be pleased by what she read. Free and boundless, subtle yet unstoppable... A child of the wind indeed, she thought, beaming. Perhaps the scroll itself resonated with the reader's nature, unlocking their inner potential? If so, well, goodness, she would certainly have to show it to others, now wouldn't she?
As the little ink drawings celebrated their victory, she gently set the scroll aside, and turned to the open curtains opposite her, bordering a window with a commanding view of a street that seemed all the duller now that she had seen what lay beneath.
The freedom and the flow of the wind within...
It was nearly second nature to her. She had tried meditating before, and found it all too easy to become distracted (indeed, she'd gotten some of her best ideas that way), but the lightness of air, and the subtle and ever-shifting influence of the wind, came so readily to her that she couldn't help but wonder how much of it was the scroll and how much of it had been dormant within her, waiting to be unlocked.
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Mitsuya didn't immediately continue reading the scroll, instead pausing to linger over the surprisingly well-crafted little illustrations. The elegant simplicity of the drawings themselves, contrasted with the way they capered about on the paper--making cute little sounds, no less!--was something that couldn't fail to appeal to Mitsuya's own sense of aesthetics. She hoped that this was something she might learn herself someday; oh, the things she could do with it...
But however long she might have tarried there, she had to move on to the meat of the scroll itself. This time, at least, it wasn't a punch to the face--though she still had to pause in her perusal for several seconds, one hand delicately raised to her nose, while this new sensation of enlightenment worked its way through her system.
When she returned to the scroll, she couldn't help but be pleased by what she read. Free and boundless, subtle yet unstoppable... A child of the wind indeed, she thought, beaming. Perhaps the scroll itself resonated with the reader's nature, unlocking their inner potential? If so, well, goodness, she would certainly have to show it to others, now wouldn't she?
As the little ink drawings celebrated their victory, she gently set the scroll aside, and turned to the open curtains opposite her, bordering a window with a commanding view of a street that seemed all the duller now that she had seen what lay beneath.
The freedom and the flow of the wind within...
It was nearly second nature to her. She had tried meditating before, and found it all too easy to become distracted (indeed, she'd gotten some of her best ideas that way), but the lightness of air, and the subtle and ever-shifting influence of the wind, came so readily to her that she couldn't help but wonder how much of it was the scroll and how much of it had been dormant within her, waiting to be unlocked.
She opened her eyes, and mimicked the gesture.