Let it snow
The island always changed. There were the subtle shifts only long-term residents would recognize--rarely were they pleasant changes--and there were those which anyone might recognize, even if they appeared in the middle of it.
Not that it wouldn't have been nice to land on a winter-wonderland island. It would have saved her a fair bit of sunburn, her first summer.
Yet, the island itself, and its usual climate, was never what brought grief to its residents. It was always the tricks played by the island itself--or more accurately, whomever worked the controls of the island--which brought the grief to the residents
As a whole, Elizabeth avoided much of the grief that the island dished out. She did, of course, lose dear friends, as did everyone. At times, she woke different from who or what she was before. Unlike many others, she chose to embrace the island as a second (third) home. She chose to see it as a second chance to see those dear friends she never would have seen without it. A chance to forstall the Asuran using her own body to attack her beloved city. She did not imagine herself alone in embracing the island. Far from it; she personally knew residents which held similar beliefs.
Unique she might not be, but she still counted it fortunate to have the strength to withstand when the island dreamt of home, and when the island played games for the holidays. It allowed her to appreciate the times like this...when the island did something truly beautiful.
Of course, the festivities were a bit early, but she much preferred an early Christmas to the burning heat of her first December on the island.
She was making her way toward the Compound, walking at a lesuirely pace this time, rather than the hurried gait she'd kept up during the previous December's cold spot, when she heard a strangely familiar sound. A sort of whumphing bark from the trees. It wasn't often that she met island dogs, so the sound gave her pause, and she squinted toward the treeline to get a better look at which one it might be.
She didn't have to wait long. A white lab came trundling out of the treeline as if he'd just accomplished something grand--stealthing through the snow in white.
Elizabeth's heart clenched in her chest, as she brought her hands to her mouth. "Sedge?"
The dog gave a curious whimper, trotted up to her, and sat at her feet, clearly expecting a treat of some sort. Joy flushed through her, and she part knelt-part fell to her knees in front of the albino lab, throwing her arms around Sedgewick's shoulders. "Sedgewick! I missed you."
Not that it wouldn't have been nice to land on a winter-wonderland island. It would have saved her a fair bit of sunburn, her first summer.
Yet, the island itself, and its usual climate, was never what brought grief to its residents. It was always the tricks played by the island itself--or more accurately, whomever worked the controls of the island--which brought the grief to the residents
As a whole, Elizabeth avoided much of the grief that the island dished out. She did, of course, lose dear friends, as did everyone. At times, she woke different from who or what she was before. Unlike many others, she chose to embrace the island as a second (third) home. She chose to see it as a second chance to see those dear friends she never would have seen without it. A chance to forstall the Asuran using her own body to attack her beloved city. She did not imagine herself alone in embracing the island. Far from it; she personally knew residents which held similar beliefs.
Unique she might not be, but she still counted it fortunate to have the strength to withstand when the island dreamt of home, and when the island played games for the holidays. It allowed her to appreciate the times like this...when the island did something truly beautiful.
Of course, the festivities were a bit early, but she much preferred an early Christmas to the burning heat of her first December on the island.
She was making her way toward the Compound, walking at a lesuirely pace this time, rather than the hurried gait she'd kept up during the previous December's cold spot, when she heard a strangely familiar sound. A sort of whumphing bark from the trees. It wasn't often that she met island dogs, so the sound gave her pause, and she squinted toward the treeline to get a better look at which one it might be.
She didn't have to wait long. A white lab came trundling out of the treeline as if he'd just accomplished something grand--stealthing through the snow in white.
Elizabeth's heart clenched in her chest, as she brought her hands to her mouth. "Sedge?"
The dog gave a curious whimper, trotted up to her, and sat at her feet, clearly expecting a treat of some sort. Joy flushed through her, and she part knelt-part fell to her knees in front of the albino lab, throwing her arms around Sedgewick's shoulders. "Sedgewick! I missed you."