The tender winds caressed the strands of hair from her cheeks away from her face. Heat exhaustion sank in, the scales of her flesh flickered green, the gills on her neck shriveled in the heat for they were only adapted to fresh water. Water, she needed water, dehydration plundered her every movement. The salt ocean in the horizon shimmered a silvery haze, calling attention to itself. Vultures flew in a ring above her crown, a shadow flickering in circles fluttering with obvious intention. Slumber perhaps would overwhelm, however, tonight, the insects flew above and she knew she had to catch them. The butterflies were bigger than any mountain, and would create whirlpools of wind wherever they flew. It was her dedication, to capture all the Giant Butterflies, but first, she had to draw their attention with honeycombs to allure their craving attenas. The catepillars were often allured, however their slower speed and giant mass alerted their prescense for horizons beyond sight. The catepillars swam across the surface of the ocean as icebergs drifting aimlessly in search of similar company. The butterflies would swim and drop their eggs in the ocean water, for the salt crystallized the ooze which would spew from the eggs, speeding up the process of their hatchling. She fantasized if a butterfly would be as small as her hand, for in these worlds, their size carved mountains of the sky and made rivers of the clouds. She only had to follow the breeze, for in the direction the leaves swayed, a butterfly went, surely she thought.
However the only trees were of that belonging to the islands, found in few. Legends of the island which would appear for a certain time when the moon was at a certain angle of the sky, revealed it would only be within sight for a few moments before drifting back into the ocean. It was here in a pecular island where their rumored to be an entrance to an underwater world with the key to taming the skies. A retracting harness which would latch onto butterflies and allow itself to dislocated whenever necessary and project a sail which enabled gliding or parachuting. A tool like this far exceeded the intelligence of the primitive few who remained. The lands were few, the oceans migrated and conquered most of the lands. Technology was left to the aerodynamics of wind gliding, surfing, and butterfly simulated flight. The tamed seagulls would transport cargo of medicines and projectiles to islands too far away from the most concentrated main lands. People would take seating in their gulls, for their massive size would enable them to act as couriers as well as warding off any aggressive butterfiles.
She was armed with only a grapplying hook, charismatic tenure, sharp wit, and the ability to improvise. The leafs around her falling from the island's tree were big enough to use as makeshift personal hang gliding devices.
As she peered into the distance, scanning for any sign of adventure, her attention distracted her responsibilities to her own home.
"Coreene the lizards are at it again!" a voice boomed a few paces away in a hut, the sound of a familiar and warm man.
Her sandals scattered the dirt underneath her feet with each stride. Specs of dirt and gravel flung unto the wooden floor of her cot as the door allowed her in as the wind shadowed. "Dad when are we going to go see my brother" she asked,
"Probably not for another few months, he's at the Lardvoth Castle learning how to spar and fight, besides you have to apprentice with Prophess Fet on the matters of flying and tamingt butterflies. It is all the women's responsiblity to slay all the butterflies, it is only women whom may be amongst the butterfly and bask in pheromones of sweet allure, whereas a man would offend and provoke even the tamest of butterflies. With that note, go get those lizards, they are bothering the sheep again, if you can, capture a few of them alive, I need a new belt"
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