To the Sea
an excerpt

Arienne looked down at the sea. The waves crashed, breaking on the rocks that thrust up from the water, climbing into the steep and broken cliffs that supported the manor in which she lived. The white foam split and spluttered over the shore, sliding again into the massiveness of the darkened sea. Another wave swept in, roaring, beating at the cliff while the gulls called in their harsh tones, bright white spots circling in a sky filled with black and purple clouds. The whole horizon looked like a bruise, rumbling ominously with the threat of storm. Again and again the waves swept in, pounding at the rock, clutching at dry land with a thousand fluid fingers. Each time the pull of the ocean was too much for them to resist, and they were reclaimed.

Far below, a bright red crab scrabbled for more secure footing on an outcropping of wet black rock.

She stroked the glass pane of the tiny window without seeing it; her fingers found the catch and freed it. Instantly the room was filled with a wild wind, howling with glee as it chased itself through the small circular chamber and disarranged anything it could move. Arienne's gown whipped about her slender frame in the gale, her long blonde hair rose to float about her face in a shifting veil of palest gold, but still she stared down at the sea, in the grips of some emotion she could not name. Her breath came faster, lips parting slightly, and slower than a dream she extended one hand out of the window to touch the tempest.