kimya is a blank slate due to his amnesia! i'd like for him to be recruited to blackwater <3
The frigid waters tossed the boy about, and as his head went under, he inhaled a large amount of saltwater. He felt himself slipping as he choked and spluttered, unable to reach the surface, and panic began to flood as he realized - he was about to die. As darkness closed around him, Kimya prayed to whatever God could hear him.
He came to on sand, confused and his entire body aching. He heaved, and a torrent of saltwater came pouring from mouth and nose alike. He fell into unconsciousness once more soon after his body had rid itself of the sea.
at first, ingram thought the sand colored lump covered in bits of seaweed and soaking wet was a mound of sand the sea had regurgitated with the jetsam and flotsam; waves frothing with it's latest rejects.
it wasn't until the mound heaved that the keeper realized it was a wolf. though his hackles prickled at the intrusion he convinces the very worst of his border aggression that it wasn't intentional. he doubted anyone intended to be washed up on the shores of anywhere. hey! can you hear me?
he calls out as he draws nearer wearily.
the listener was never far from her keeper, save those times the unnamed god called her away from the islands. his voice drew her near, eyes finding the figure lying prone upon the beach as he called to it.
another daywalker swept upon their shores.
the unnamed god has gifted the druids once again,
the prophet intoned, bridget lurking among her thoughts as she gazed upon the gold and sand cast of the wolf. i have plans for this one, keeper. handle him gently.
The boy came to with two wolves standing over him, male and female. The female spoke of an unnamed god, and plans for himself. Confused and uncertain, he looked up to the female, ears half-perked. He opened his maw, but instead of words, he uttered a low growl - his way of trying to communicate that he couldn't speak.
a gift, the listener names the ocean's refuse washed up upon their shore. ingram eyes the male, looking like a half-drowned rat, growling out his response ( or lack thereof ). though the iron guardian cannot see the grand plans the unnamed god has planned for this stranger, he trusts the listener all the same. he gives a soft nod to communicate that he understands. to the stranger, his seaglass gaze falls once more. can you walk?
ingram inquires, not looking for a verbal answer.
knowing if this stranger could walk or not would help to determine the keeper's next steps.
bring him to a safe place, learn his name if you can. when he is ready, bring him to me.
the listener stepped away with a gesture to signal her departure. in mere moments, she was gone.
Walking. That was easy. The boy got to his paws, shaking slightly. He took a few steps, now trembling, and he looked back to the male. Okay, maybe not so easy after his battle with the sea. He paused, then looked to the male again. Maybe after a few minute's rest...
Then, their other company left, seeking a name from him. A name... he couldn't remember it. He couldn't remember anything. Frustrated, he got to his paws again, then looked to Ingram, nodding. He was no longer shaking.
the newest druid rises to his paws; the gesture bringing with it some measure of relief to ingram. he truly did not want to drag the druid away from the greedy, grasping reaching of the sea unless he had to — as ingram imagines that it would be uncomfortable for the both of them. the listener takes her leave, giving instructions to ingram who offers her a sage nod before his attention trains back on the newest druid; struggling on shaking paws.
a thought to offer assistance rises to the keeper's tongue; biting back only when the newest druid, determined; rises to his paws.
come. we will take it slow.
ingram commands and promises, leading the way.
feel free to either archive as is; or archive on your reply. :-)