Gilded Bay But never have I been a blue calm sea

The sea swiped angrily at the sky, the wind throwing the gulls around as if they weighed like feathers. Rain pelted icy spears into her russet pelt, gusts of wind pushing her into the rock spires she navigated in between. The sky was a turbulent sea of smoke-gray and obsidian-black hovering mercilessly over the young fae as she attempted to make it across the series of tide pools. There was no clemency in the October wind, no eloquence in the waves, it was a menagerie of darkness.

Tokala stumbled as yet another wave rushed through the pools, tugging at her paws as it receded. The bay was supposed to have a low tide at this time of day. The femme peered upwards at the turbulent sky. Perhaps the ocean is confused. It appeared awfully similar to night.

She grimaced as a wave rose up from the sea, her heart beating along with the strokes of lightening crackling through the air. Her head whipped towards the nearest spire, her forepaws already bounding towards it. Tokala slid behind the barrier before the wave crashed around it, her petite body pressing against the rock – her eyes hard-pressed tightly as she waited to feel the water recede. She felt the tremors rocking through her own body, she could nearly taste the briny sea.