Time ticks.
On and one.
Foot steps sound.
Again and again.
Small shoes pounded the pavement. Hurry hurry. It was always hurry. No one seemed to ever care the world passed them by faster than they would like. Lives, no matter how long, always seemed so short. So many, taking that life for granted. Living at the speed of light.
Rushing, always rushing.
But in the midst of the rushing was a girl that seemed to take her time. Walking in her leisurely way. Never late, she always arrived precisely on time as much as she could control it. There were times that traffic, accidents, or random attacks on the world would change the ability to arrive in a timely manner. The blonde did not let those moments bother her. Why should she? They were out of her control.
There were so many things in life out of her control. Mana. Other people. Her powers. She controled nothing but her own actions. Then sometimes, not even those. Like the day that the rift had happened. The beast had come forth. And somehow, some way her powers had expanded beyond her control, beyond her wildest dreams of how far she could expand her aura. Silencing the entire city until she had passed out.
Carried out on the arms of a angel.
Kimber traveled a great deal. Always rumbling from one city to the next. Playing music. Doing her part to bring the world what she could. The slight girl was slender, tiny even, and wearing a soft pink dress.
Her outfit was simple but lovely. In a way that accented what her body had but only barely. She dressed modestly, unlike many in the city. With her flat shoes, her knee length dress and a cardigan over it. The only jewelry she had was under her cardigan and was the armlet that her grandmother had given her. The one that had given her the gift of music back when the mana had turned her world into a silent one.
Her violin lay in its case. She had many, but today she had decided on the white one. Her case was black, there was no need to color coordinate things like that, her violin was not an accessory, it was a tool, it was a beautiful extension of who she was and what she could do.
As the young woman walked, she was surprised when she began to notice the small flutterings all around her. Like snow. And yet, it was spring. Spring was flowers and shower. Rain and droplets. Splashing on petals and making beautiful music and beats against the metal in the city. It was not a time for snow and it most certainly was not cold enough for snow. Her dress proved that. She feared, perhaps magic at work. Perhaps the cold was coming. The girl stopped her feet from walking and paused.
Children squealed with delight that only children could have. As they ran around catching the flurries on their tongues and squealing about how sweet they were. Flourists rushed to bring in their displayed flowers. Other stores brought in their carts and things, people came out from businesses looking up at the sky trying to figure out what was going on. The murmur of voices was low but filled the space sufficiently.
Kimber lifted her free hand, a flake had landed there, stayed there. It was not cold. It was not melting. It was doing nothing but waiting. Lifting it to her lips, her tongue slid out and tasted.. sweet. Gritty. Disolved. Like.. sugar? But large, on such a large scale. Her brows furrowed in confusion. Snow was like water. Gritty river water, but water. This was not snow. This was something else. But what made snow, sweet?