A tiny sandbar, crowded with people -- people from Aather, Mau's family, who you'll recognize from the memory of his childhood, people who came to the Nation later, dancing and laughing.
You see the island rise, cupped in hands made of darkness, and great grey wings -- they must be as big as the sky -- closing over everything.
And all the people Mau knows, caught and crushed between fingers the size of treetrunks, hands made of sea and storm and falling stone.
Selenia's face turned up willingly toward the face of death.
And Mau flinging himself at Locaha, tiny and insignificant, battering himself against those closed wings, ineffectual, but fighting, always fighting.
Re: Under the Deep Water
A tiny sandbar, crowded with people -- people from Aather, Mau's family, who you'll recognize from the memory of his childhood, people who came to the Nation later, dancing and laughing.
You see the island rise, cupped in hands made of darkness, and great grey wings -- they must be as big as the sky -- closing over everything.
And all the people Mau knows, caught and crushed between fingers the size of treetrunks, hands made of sea and storm and falling stone.
Selenia's face turned up willingly toward the face of death.
And Mau flinging himself at Locaha, tiny and insignificant, battering himself against those closed wings, ineffectual, but fighting, always fighting.