Stavanger Bay Sure as hell, unknown

Rowyn found his wandering paws took him to a place that smelled like fish and salt. Where the wind took his breath and the ground gave way beneath his feet. But he could walk. But occasionally sharp pieces of shells would cut the pawpads on his feet.

Cold gaze assessed the ocean as it rose to meet and he marveled at it. Something powerful and strong. Yet if he touched it, it went apart. Such a strange thing this ocean.

guided south by winds known to her spirit but not her person, the spiderling ranges.

each day she uncovers something new about herself; some old part, hidden -- pakasqa, muskrat had said.

but this was not pakasqa that moved within her, faithfully restoring misused parts.

she comes across a boy her age more or less. and the animus within moving her limbs reacted violently to that grey face for reasons she could not place, or was not allowed to.

in the next second the flare passed, and the girl was left wondering what shred of a past life she'd tasted, if any.

but then came the rolling fog thereafter; as if a great hand spread out along the skyline of her psyche, blotting out her senses.

squinting through this newfound headache, the girl approached the boy whose attention remained fixated upon the sea.

did it call to him, too?

A soft noise behind him. He felt his shoulders tense. Amd turned to peer at the she wolf coming closer. 

A bright colored patch over two mismatched eyes. He studied her without intent. Merely looked. Ahe didn't seem intent upon harm. So he turned his gaze back to the ocean.

He didn't say anything for now. But he did settle to his haunches. Stretching his shoulders as he did so. Ruffling the fur there.

he seemed more invested in the sea. other than to share a glance her way, his attention remained on the surf - his entire body language communicating a natural ease that set her own tension at bay. he did not speak, and this she preferred.

she came closer. as the wind stirred gunmetal quills along his spine, the girl pressed her nose to him and inspected every scent turned over in his fur: of salt, of his last meal, but mostly --

of solitude.

completing her thorough inspection of his pelt, the girl sat besides him and brought her gaze to the churning waters.

Rowyn had been forced to learn how to be comfortable in his own skin. He had to learn to be something he had not known how to be, in order to survive. And as such he had a bit of a cockiness to his nature. He knew himself better than most people his age did. And he had learned out of necessity. 

He felt the touch of gentle nose. And though he flicked an ear, he didn't move. Allowed her to peruse the myriad of scents that made up what was him. She smelled like the sea, and loam. And something else. But he couldn't quite place it. 

He nodded towards the sea. Lei è bellissima

Then he grew quiet again.

<3

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his pelt told her of a story similar to her own. of long days and cold nights. loneliness. 

for a girl such as herself what life was this? ava — the real ava — had sensed the fracturing of her inner self for months. 

she reached her nose to the sweet boy and for a moment relished the warmth there. the promise in his body and the richness of his future. his voice was sweet and calming. despite the ache in her head, ava smiled; it may be the last voice she ever heard. 

and then, knowing the incubus that had controlled her all these months was temporarily disarmed, ava jumped. 

she closed her eyes against the shrieking of the wind and the furious howl of the blackbird within. 

it didn’t matter. 

she had won. 

and now, she joins the faceless thousands as the sea hungrily accepts her offering.

[He didn't know this silent girl. But she seemed like a lost lamb. And the world was not kind to the lost. He had known this first hand. There wasn't much to be said, that could fill the spaces inbetween. Why should they. The silence was just as fine.

She smiled. Softly. Serenely. There was peace in her two tone gaze. And then chaos reigned and he froze at first.

 His heart galloping a mile a minute. He searched for help, much like he had all those months ago, when the his world had ended with blood soaked grass. And much like that day, there was no help to be found. But this time he was not a scared little boy who pissed behind a tree. He did not shake or cry out.

Mio Dio

He backed up. Mumbled one more thing in one of his mother's tongues Stupido. Ragazza carina

Then with a howl built for the ages. A howl that rent the air with his sadness and his grief. With his unshakable spirit. He ran and he leapt. Large paws stroking to catch the girl by the scruff. But that current was too hard, and they could not return the way they had come. The ocean did not forgive theives, and she beat him with her fury.

<333

once upon a time miles from here, a young boy cowered in terror praying to gods that may not exist.

and he had been running ever since.

once upon a time, a young girl watched her family fracture under the weight of indifferent gods. 

and she had been running ever since.

---

her eyes flutter open as someone's arms wrap around her.

NO! YOU MUST NOT TAKE THIS FROM ME! she rips around in mid-air, expecting anathema. but it is the boy; the boy on the cliff.

as they fall she finds herself melting into his protective embrace.

is this what peace should feel like?

---

he will know her not by the names of her past lives, but the one he's picked for her.

'i chiamerò stellina—la stellina cadente.' he whispers as he brushes the sand from her dark face. falling star; a homage to the death he's witnessed and the life he's saved combined.

and she will know him as her lodestar; the one to save her and stick by her when there was little else worth saving.

for a time she will miss her sister deeply -- and for a time, she hears the blackwater surge in her veins.

but that was a past life, and this is now.

together, their entire future awaits them on some other shore.