Bellani(mentioned)

Kharris danced.

Moonlight and surf courted her on the waves, and her bare feet were wet from where they hovered and over the ocean’s chilly, tentative touch.

The beach was close, but each step took her farther. Bonfires from Shadowprey dotted the coast, their own shapes dancing in the brisk wind. They marked the town, but Kharris did not see them, her eyes were closed.

She was lost to the rhythm of the sea and the dance. Light skirts snapped around her legs  but she was unhindered—she was dancing, her body would adjust. Her hair was pulled back from her face in four tight braids that hung down her back and with beads threaded in by nimble trollish fingers, clacking like conversations in a language unknown to any elven ears.

She was lost to the rhythm of the dance and it was the closest she’d been to peace in months. But it was not peace. Peace was an active process, in its way. This was something… blank.