Sea Lion Shores I see a wreck to windward

@Awenfen! Sorry for the wait on this <3

Even having lived along the shore nearly his entire life, Kingsley had never once come across creatures such as these. He stared in both awe and confusion at the massive, honking beasts that lined the water's edge here. Not once, but twice he had been chased away for being too close to their...herd? Pack? Although he were a daring sort, the pirate knew better than to tempt fate (and here, fate came in the form of giant, pointy tusks).

So instead, Kingsley opted to admire the creatures from afar, standing among the grassy dunes that overlooked their shore. Still, the threat of being gorged did not stop his hungry gaze from roaming the crowd, looking for any particularly small or sickly looking beasts he could lure away.

Thank you for starting! Apologies for the delay! <3

Fractured heart drumming a faltering tattoo against the cage of her chest, the sylph shot up with a yiped cry of fear - pale eyes wild, rolling against their whites as they swept side to side. 

Were she human, she might've scrubbed her palms along the length of her features; slid those hands into the roots of her hair to gather and grasp at handfuls of it as if it could tether her to this earthly plane. As it was, the battered woman released a long-pent sigh of weariness, a sound like wind whispering through bare branches, fae eyes sliding shut for but a moment of reprise before ivory paws whirled of their own accord. 

It was only dawn as she hastened from the shadows, badger pelt draped about her slim shoulders for warmth and a tremble in her hitched gait that spoke of franticness. The sky'd been kissed with colors as soft and sweet as candyfloss, pinks and blues and peachy oranges wrapping the horizons of the heavens not unlike a fine shawl. 

She would not dwell on it - couldn't. 

There was a glint of some madness in her eyes as she pushed on, west, now that there was no longer any north to flee to. A harmless variety, to be sure, but detectable to the experienced eye: the insanity of a broken thing, the echo of insurmountable trauma. 

Running was all she had left. 

More than a fear, more than a focus, it had consumed her life. Desperation imprinted every footstep left in the sand, paranoia cast wariness over her shoulders. 

It followed the wyvern, even now as she trekked along determinedly, moonshine eyes flickering about - haunted by the nightly terrors as they numbly scanned the expanse of the mainland, a green blur of forests, open grassland, and distant mountains. 

As deadened as she felt on this morn, her wispy auds perked when the faint sound of barking hit them. Curiosity flooded her, though not alone, it brought dread along for company, halting Awenfen in her tracks - still as stone, save for the twitch of her butterfly ears as Hui strained to listen. 

With some strange, silent courage, the scarred sylph limped on, following the uproar of the sea lion colony to the outskirts of their beach claim. Drawn forward investigatively by the odd creatures, tapeesa moved to draw from the long grasses, quivering raspberry nose scenting the breeze, when the sight of him stopped her in her tracks. 

His back was to her, as he too seemed to be observing the clan of peculiar seadogs, yet she'd no idea if the male had detected her silent presence at his back. Broad and rugged, rough shag tangled with seawater, there was something roguish about the faceless stranger even from this sliver of a glimpse. 

Rooted by small, feathered paws, Awen shifted indecisively as anxiety brewed in her belly. Swaying gently, weight swinging to and fro, as the verdant reeds undulating in the gentle wind, debating whether or not she should dissapear back into their depths.

Not a problem at all :D

The nearly overwhelming noise of the raucous sea lions and the crashing shore both dulled his sense of hearing, and so Kingsley did not hear the feather-light footsteps creep up from behind him. Instead, it was a shift in the wind that alerted him to her presence; a peculiarly flowery scent amongst the brine. And when he turned, there stood an equally curious-looking woman. His stark opposite, she was a graceful fae with pale tendrils and wisps of fur the ocean wind gently tousled and played with, as opposed to his own tangled fur which was roughly tugged and pulled in every which way.

The more he stared, the less he was certain she was one of his own kind. Perhaps some sort of very large fox? Albino coyote? No, the ears were all wrong. Regardless, Kingsley flashed the odd creature a crooked grin, still largely facing the colony of beasts with his head turned over one shoulder. He noted, too, she bore many scars over her petite frame - a lifetime of hardship? Or was there more than what met the eye with this one?

"Ahoy, miss," he barked, looking back to the ocean. "Care to join me?" At this, he glanced back, indicating the space beside him was open with a cant of his muzzle.

For a heartbeat, the beach faded. 

The roar of the domain's beasts hummed to a muffled echo; the crash of waves, the cry of seabirds crackled and hissed into silence like the static of a radio purgatory. The wind whipping her thin coat numbed. 

For but a breath, ocean locked onto forest and they stared. She'd seen many men who shared the same heritage as her father, yet never before had she come across an individual in such direct opposition to she.

If ever there'd been a seaman, it was he: scarred and battleworn, coat wild and wind-whipped like the faded linen of a boat's sails, a treacherous curve to his smirking lips. He was of the water, cerulean and salt-crusted where she was a spirit of the wood, mossy and fog-shrouded. 

They stared, he curiously and she guardedly - rising onto her toes like a bird about to take flight, the fearful voice within cautioning. 

Opaque jade shuttered briefly as she blinked in surprise, not expecting his jaunty invitation. It took a second for Awen to find her voice, a beat for her heart to stop pounding and be swallowed back down her gullet. 

Drawing from the grass, she glided to his side on slow steps - taking a seat aside of him, pale eyes sliding to him curiously yet not quite meeting aquamarine. 

" 'ello," the broken mother chirped wispily by way of greeting, the white whip of her tail swishing a gentle pace. "I'm Awenfen." 

"Awen is fine zough," she offered after, "Fen too."