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+--- Thread: Stavanger Bay drowning. (/showthread.php?tid=21854)
drowning. - Emaleth - May 17, 2017
she couldn't breathe. it was only that which consumed her. she had no name. no knowledge of who she was or who she had been. no knowledge of the time that passed. it was only this weightlessness and the tightness in her chest and throat.
and the will to survive.
her legs kicked against the current, fighting to reach the surface before it was too late, only able to hope that the direction she chose was up. was life.
her head broke the water's surface, and she gasped quickly, drinking in as much oxygen as she could before more waves shoved her back under. but at least she could see the sand swirling beneath her— the shallows. she was nearing a place where she could regain her footing, to stand and return to the earth. but the undertow sucked her back under, her head met either sharp coral or rock, and the dark witch knew nothing— not even drowning.
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her body rests upon the shore, the low tide lapping at her hindquarters. her breath is shallow, having already expelled the brine from her lungs, but she lives. ravens draw near, from their roosts within the seaside forests— they are curious if she is meat for the taking, or if she will become it.
RE: drowning. - Thelxiope - May 17, 2017
the sea had rejected from it a body. ravens, crows, and the odd scavenger have led her here, to the form that is not the prey she had expected but one of her own species. the elements always take from them their kin, it is necessary, for without sacrifice comes no gain, and all things must die, someday. she approaches the woman across the sand, with the intention of performing the simple closing rites which ensure a soul might find a home in another body.
but it is not a stiff corpse she finds, rather, one that moves with the slightest spark of life. Thelxiope discards the onyx stone she has carried for the purpose of the rites, leaning close to find the body a woman, a young one, still living and breathing. gaze roves to the waves that lap at the woman, as if eager to pull her back into it's depths. is it a mistake? ought she to leave the woman here?
the elements do not make mistakes. the sea does not err. the woman reaches forward, attempting to snag her fangs in the woman's scruff and drag her further up the beach, away from the teasing sea, certainly quite the challenge for one as slight as she.