Ankyra Sound Genesis 1

The feeling of sand beneath her. The smell of sea salt. The sound of crashing waves.

The other's would not be far behind. This was a rare moment of independence.

Her steps were careful, her direction calculated, but there was nowhere to go just yet. She had heard stories of their destination, the legends of her predecessor and the failures of the whole. Blackwater Islands. The name had been repeated in her mind since they left, filling with questions of the who's, what's, where's, and how's.

She was excited nonetheless, though it would not show. A young woman in her position would always be perfectly composed, for that was the way it should be. She would rule her promised land with grace, and succeed in ways that other's had not. She would bring the world peace, purity.

It would be reborn in her vision. Beautiful and kind. Controlled.

Visala was nowhere to be seen when she woke up. Standardly, Nayavanti turned the entire forest in search for her. Even considering to interfere with nearby packs due to the terrible anxiety that the woman had been seized right under her snout. The plan was just taking course until she spots a familiar figure in the far distance of the shores.

Visala treads there with her usual assured grace. Appearing artful. Pearlescent white fur ruffles in the wind. Head tilted up, content, calculating even. It's as if she's framed against the blues of water. Shining just bright enough to cast an ethereal sort of form in her silhouette.

It took a moment for the thrumming in Nayavanti's ears to stop. When it did, she makes her way to the smaller woman. Stepping along the sand noticeably louder to not rouse alarm.

"Listener," She says "my heart threatens to break my ribcage whenever you disappear like that, you know?"

Her moment alone seemed to be fleeting, the sound of familiar pawsteps hitting the sand cutting through the air and making her ears twitch. Her head turned as Nayavanti spoke, taking in her comforting scent.

A single paw forward to test the ground, and then she made her way to her dear Keeper. I never go far, do I? She mused, clouded eyes shutting to bump her head into the chest of the other. I will be just fine. We both know that it is not the will of our god to see me die.

Her voice was sweet, soft-spoken and high. A voice that to most it would seem only Nayavanti had the privilege of hearing.

Nayavanti's tense muscles unfolds in relief when the other is now in close proximity. Still, she frowns uncharacteristically at her words. Like a pup that was told they couldn't play outside in the rain. The woman sighs defeatedly, hoping Visalia wouldn't sense her childish response. 

"I know."

She is right, of course. Their god wouldn't throw away the perfect opportunity of much needed divine intervention. And there would never come a day Nayavanti would find Visala's words incorrect.

Although, Visala wouldn't be this restless unless she had an ulterior motive. 

"Food for thought?" She offers.

She nodded after a short moment. Nothing important, I'm just excited I suppose. Not often was Visala all too excited about anything. Her life was far too interesting to care.

When the tide goes down, you will be able to take me across to the Blackwater islands. Not for a moment had the thought left her mind. Her new home, their new home. She would ensure it's success, ensure that her predecessors legacy would not be forgotten.

Her siblings and Nayavanti by her side, Visala would finally be able to begin her work. It was thrilling. You must be excited too, hm?

"Yes.. I am." Nayavanti replies. Embarrassed and pleased to be read so well by The Listener. 

Indulgently, she nudges her snout at the soft fur at the side of Visala's muzzle. She was a naive pup, before all this. Scheduled to die in vain. Because of the will of God she's now a predator, a tool, and foremost; a keeper.

In the next few days the packs plans will solidify. They will have territory and the first step will be put into action. How could she not be giddy at that?

"This will do good for this land. Together. It's more than I could ask for."

Whiskers twitched as Nayavanti closed the gap between them. There was no further response to it from Visala - her one-track mind was occupied by thoughts of the future. Isn't it? She let out a quiet laugh. It's odd to think that you were nearly fish food not too long ago.

What was funny to Visala in that situation had likely been terrifying for Nayavanti. It was not a thought that had ever occured to her.

Can you see the water now? She asked. Will we be able to cross soon?

Nayavanti still could almost taste the sharp iron of fear at the memory. No.. she refuse to acknowledge it as a weak point. It was fate. She turns her head towards the water to ground herself. The waves have become thinner. Only pushing out to shrink back further into itself each time.

"not too long now," She says, and replies after a moment of contemplation about the lines ingrained on the sand she says: "it might take an hour or so."

A small ladybug starts making its way towards the two of them, near Visala's front paws. The dark haired woman firmly crushes it beneath her own paw before it touches her. 

"The journey is going to be difficult, dangerous. And when that time comes," Nayavanti turns back to Visala. She considers the other for a moment. Neutral expression, regal posture, it's piercing without intention. No doubt The Listener is a natural born figure. It would gather endless amount of followers of all sizes. Allies or enemies.

"will you trust me?"

An hour or so. Yes, she supposed she could wait that long at the very least.

But unexpectedly, a question was posed. Her expression softened, her head clumsily tucking itself under that or the larger woman's - a display of affection as best she could manage. Of course.

Her words were firm, clear. Reassuring. Who would I trust if not you? It was the simple truth. Nayavanti had her absolute trust; she had from the moment Visala took her as her Keeper. In her fickle mind herself and Nayavanti were bonded. Bound by fate, blessed or cursed to forever be at each other's sides until death do them apart. Not even a husband would be able to pull her away.

Never before had she so desperately wished to know what another looked like.

In her mind Nayavanti was only a dark shape, for it was all she could see of her. She thought them to be connected in some way; string pulled by an insect perhaps. Something sent by the god, a gift to Nayavanti so that only her keen eye may see the red line that kept them bound.