Dragoncrest Cliffs diven dous

aw but she's looking for @Rhaegal <3

as the only unrelated man in sapphique, the new granite had become of interest to mireille. she knew enough not to choose so fast, so close to the coast, but now her eye had moved toward it.
and still though she had made no choice, mireille had no experience with men. her brothers and her da and little male relatives did not count.
she roamed lightly in a cold mist of rain, searching for the male in a lope. her heart beat fast, almost sickening her. but the seagirl was resolute.

with every passing day rhaegal's comfort within sapphique grows. he's learned the lay of the cliffs that they — and now he — calls home. his time is oft spent upon the borders or the shore: patrolling and gathering what gifts the sea leaves behind in the high tides.

he stashes the seaglass and rocks and shells away for safe keeping ...though he's not yet sure what he'll do with them.

he's on the borders, soldering thru the cold mist when footfalls draw his attention and his path with mireille crosses. his steps slow to a cease, head dipping in greeting, mindful of the stark differences between their ranks. hullo. he greets.

"hello," mireille said, quietly so. her eyes flicked over him. as it stood, the red girl had little inkling of his ties to njord, but the crimson part to his tail was so familiar she froze. it suggested he was not as unnattached as she had thought.
still she must be elegant, and so she welcomed him with a look. "how you be settlin' alongside de water?" mireille asked, interest in her deep green eyes.

her inquiry is a fair one: to be expected of someone who does not know that the sea is as familiar to rhaegal as the beat of his own heart. i'm rhaegal, he offers, despite that she had not asked for it and by her question alone had likely already known that. if rhaegal feels any awkwardness at giving her his name even running with the assumption that she might've already known it, he does not let it come anywhere near surfacing.

ah, very well, rhaegal answers, offering her a sheepish grin before speaking, i grew up on an island. i'm no stranger tae the sea.

there it was. "ah. you be a relation to my da, then? njord?" mireille thought surely it was. he talked like he had been tossed on the sea all his life. "if so, then you be havin' more stories t'en me, oui?"
she smirked a bit at her faux pas and looked out toward the ocean "you stayin', rhaegal? or just for de winter?"

there is surprise that rhaegal isn't able to quite reel in as mireille calls njord 'da'. he doesn't remember njord mentioning her when he'd went over his wife and children — but then again there'd been a lot of surprise and information tossed his way. it was entirely possible he'd just missed it.

aye, rhaegal affirms. he's my uncle.

well, i dinnae ken about that. rhaegal says with a soft grin tugging at the edges of his lips; almost wily in it's nature. i'm stayin'. at least as long as ye'd have me.

njord was his uncle. mireille let go of the last hope she had been foolishly holding: that rhaegal was a man who might teach her how to talk to men outside sapphique.
but she was not upset, and in the next the youthful obsidian nipped toward him, hoping to encourage her relative into a playful half-run, half-spar in the sand. she had missed his expression. "i'll have you, sure. but you must tell me a story of your time at de sea," she teased, eyes glimmering good-naturedly.

hmm, rhaegal murmurs in contemplation, trying to sift through the stories that he had, for he had at least a year's worth maybe more. he studies her for a moment, wondering what sort of story she wanted. there was the story of the coup but ... that did not shed meares island on any sort of good light and not what he wishes to necessarily relive any time soon.

i dinnae ken if i have any interestin' stories. there's a few about how i got trounced by the waves when i was a wee bairn but — he offers a soft shrug of his shoulders.

"i leapt off a seacliff when i was younger. right onto my belly!" mireille laughed and then tilted her head to one side. "i want to hear it. tell it, rhaegal."
the young woman had little doubt he had a thousand stories. it was only a matter of unlocking them.

she is persistent, the flamekissed lass. rhaegal cannot help but admire it. he shifts through his memories, grin growing boyish when he finds one that he was willing to tell.

there's a small island with a cove a short swim away from meares island, usually filled with water but when the moon is a wee sliver and the tide is low it goes back tae the sea...one night me and a bunch of the other lads though we'd go splunkin'. maybe find some treasures tae impress the lasses of the neighboring pack. turns out the crabs that called it home guarded their treasures zealously.

a soft rumbling laughter leaves him.

i got one stuck tae my ear. thought it was gonna tear my ear off.

fade or keep going? i am cool either way!

delightful! mireille listened with growing intensity, until it all ended with a snip and a laugh and rhaegal's buoyant, joyed expression. "an' did you be bringin' the crab to her, den?" she teased. "a pierced ear an' a pirate heart. tell me dat she swooned?"
the young leader snickered and then faced toward the sea. "swim wid me?" she suggested, keen on the ice-lash of the sea, though she had not come to love it quite like erzulie.

i'll go ahead and archive. <3

aye, i did. rhaegal chuckles from the memory; cherishing the warmth that it brought to him even if nothing of that day had gone the way he'd imagined it would. ack, no. she wasn't impressed. she was a hard one tae catch the eye of. he'd punched above his weight and fell flat on his butt: but that was all apart of learning and growing up.

a swim would be nice. rhaegal agrees, gesturing with a small motion of his muzzle for her to go first and he would follow.