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+--- Thread: Stavanger Bay the mumbling of citadels (/showthread.php?tid=17344)
the mumbling of citadels - Meqet'iṉes - August 18, 2016
For anyone interested in a whale thread along the Stavanger coast!
The hunt continued; the world was soundless entirely now, as the rest of her kin remained far off, as she had willed of them, but the creature found their lack of song... Disconcerting. She probed the deep waters beneath the cliffs with some curiosity, but not with as much vigor as she had patrolled the earlier shore. As she came forth from the depths this time, it was quick, punctuated by another jet of air, but the creature sucked a fresh breath and plunged again quickly, leaving only the flicker of her forked tail to flash white against the sea.
The strangeness of the southern water, this warmer place, was likely making things difficult for her. Granddaughter thought, then, to appeal to her betters — return to the collective, ask the wise ones of days long gone for aid, yet she was a stubborn thing. She would not show them weakness by retreating so soon. This was a time of learning, and perhaps a meal would come as her reward from ch'eni, to whom she was properly devoted.
RE: the mumbling of citadels - Larkspur - August 18, 2016
Sharkbait wasn't familiar with the term "zombie," yet it unwittingly suited her quite well. Although she had mostly recovered from her physical ailments, she wasn't really too many steps above catatonic when it came to her mental and emotional conditions. There was that constant anxiety, which plagued her like a chronic, low-grade fever, but very little else. Even when she wasn't struggling to unearth memories she wasn't sure were even there from the murk of her mind, Sharkbait had a hard time really focusing properly. She just felt out of it all the time, when the tension of her nerves wasn't rubbing her raw.
Presently, she sat on the beach, staring out at the waves, fair face slack and eyes fixed absently somewhere in the middle distance. She hardly blinked. But then she saw something out on the water, a black crescent that grew in size as it cut through the blue. Then there was a spout of—air? water? Sharkbait couldn't be sure—before the curving black shape grew small again and disappeared. A different shape cleaved up and out of the choppy sea, flashing white before disappearing too.
The youth sat up a little straighter, her stare much more focused now and her breath held pensively in her breast as she waited to see if the mysterious thing would resurface.
RE: the mumbling of citadels - Meqet'iṉes - August 18, 2016
There were smaller things here. Lessers. The chattering of many voices lived beneath the surface and she, hearing these many dialects which were so very different to her, did not know if exploring would be beneficial. Perhaps they were her own kind? Residents of these dark waters calling to one another between great reaching points; or perhaps they were indeed the smaller, plumper, lazier porpoise. Granddaughter did not want to leave the coast yet. She could have sought out the origin of these strange songs, but instead she drifted within the veins of Mother Sea, and when she surfaced for another breath, she was caught by something curious and new.
It was not a lethargic beast sunning itself, as she was used to. It was not a seal, young or otherwise, which her people had learned to farm from the Big Cold; there were no sheets of glass here to protect those of the land. No, but it was small, and bright, and led her eye and her attention away from thoughts of the ocean's bounty, for a time. She could not get too close lest she be stuck — for her youth, Granddaughter was very smart — but she did delve closer. Perhaps she could lure this tiny thing off of the land instead?
RE: the mumbling of citadels - Larkspur - August 18, 2016
She gasped raggedly when it did resurface, a great black leviathan with a fin that cut into the sky like a blade. Sharkbait swallowed and found herself simultaneously fascinated and fearful. Noting the monster's trajectory—closing in on the shore—the pup scrambled backward, well away from the waves licking the sands. She never tore her eyes away from the shadow gliding now just beyond the breakers, even though it inspired as much terror as awe.
Some of the gummed-up cogs in her head began to whir slowly. "Shark?" she whispered to herself. Somehow, she knew that sharks were big fish with big teeth. Well, this beast fit the description, or at least it seemed that way. She was named for this monster. Wait... she thought dimly. Her name was Sharkbait, meaning she was intended as its food? Suddenly her body was quaking all over, even though she stood well back from the sea. Surely it couldn't get to her here?
RE: the mumbling of citadels - Meqet'iṉes - August 19, 2016
There had been tales told to her, and to her brothers and her sisters, of the many beasts of the land; that the sea was only half the world, and there were bounties to be reaped from upon the ice sheets and beaches. In all her many years Granddaughter had seen things that strengthened these facts, but never had she seen a tiny thing such as the golden child upon which her attention had locked. She had seen wolves, at least in passing, and yet did not think that they sprang up as her own kin did, small, weak, defenseless, although it made all the sense in the world.
They watched one another. The child appeared to speak, or to make some kind of sound, but the creature did not know the word. To be likened to a shark was either a great insult or a boon — they were warriors, but dim of mind, and ravenous. Granddaughter was like them, yes, but also not. She had the knowledge of the ancestors to raise her up, unlike the tireless shark, who roamed the sea merely to fill its belly and nothing more.
She would ignore the fact that her empty stomach was what urged her to watch the child now, but for the time being Granddaughter was indeed a shark. And seeing the fear pass over the small dog-seal, the trembling of its body, the wide eyes, made the creature grin beneath the water.
Perhaps she could sooth this child? Bring them close, for the Mother Sea loved all the life upon the world, not just her beloved children of the depths. But the child had retreated. That, and the fact the creature could not woo a child who could not understand the words of old, meant that any desire she had to sweep the babe away was lost.
She deviated from her course, and with a beat of her tail, drifted deep and away from the coast, back towards the wise ones.
RE: the mumbling of citadels - Larkspur - August 24, 2016
Just wanted to say you write beautifully for her. Thanks for the thread. :)
Sharkbait watched warily as the creature's head bobbed among the waves. She took the great white patches to be its eyes and she shuddered beneath their wide, empty gaze; she could feel its weight, even from a distance. But at least it remained out there in the water and didn't attempt to crawl up onto the sand to get to her. In fact, it came no closer, spy-hopping a few times before sinking back beneath the waves. It did not resurface again, though the youth saw another waterspout against the horizon.
For a while, she scanned the horizon, waiting to see if the great beast would return. She decided she would not venture back toward the water, now or possibly ever, not with leviathans lurking in the deeps. Not long after making this idle decision, her fair face fell slack and she took to staring emptily again, time passing her by in a sludgy, detached blur.