Silent Storm

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All around her, towering mountains descended sharply into the sparkling waters of the Pacific. Their ragged surfaces were torn as if a giant hand had grabbed desperate snatches from the earth, leaving behind nothing but thin air and harsh ridges of granite exposed to the brilliant August sun. Along the waterline, where the tide’s highest marks had ripped and torn the land, sun-bleached logs lay in tangled heaps, the exposed roots of massive cedars now tormented remains of once majestic trees.

The world kept changing. It was inevitable.

Laurin Marshall guided her kayak along the inlet, letting the crisp morning air fill her lungs, seeking a moment’s respite from her internal turmoil. Her mind was filled with images, emotions, and uncertain longings. Two years had passed since she’d deserted her mountain clan to find a place among the water shifters known as the People of the Sea. Only a couple months ago her life had been radically transformed again.

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