A nomad lives nowhere, and he is a stranger everywhere.
He drifts, often on a whim. He is parasitic, dwelling in host territories that are never his own. Using their culture and land to absorb information and stave off appetites. To the world at large the nomad is both immaterial and innocuous.
Panting and dripping, he opens his eyes to a moon tailored from bright mare’s milk. He shrugs the soaked pelt from his shoulders and whips the sea out from his own. The island swims into focus. Many scents flood his lungs. Groves and karsts and the rolling tide comes into view.
For the next length of time, here is home.
He drifts, often on a whim. He is parasitic, dwelling in host territories that are never his own. Using their culture and land to absorb information and stave off appetites. To the world at large the nomad is both immaterial and innocuous.
Panting and dripping, he opens his eyes to a moon tailored from bright mare’s milk. He shrugs the soaked pelt from his shoulders and whips the sea out from his own. The island swims into focus. Many scents flood his lungs. Groves and karsts and the rolling tide comes into view.
For the next length of time, here is home.