Totoka River compose a poem, an honest verse of longing

NOTE: In Coelacanth’s personal timeline, all current threads take place before this thread because impossible timelines are best timelines.

I’m sorry for the lackluster post. I am not feeling well. ;-;

The likeness to yin and yang was not lost on Coelacanth, who had been raised under her grandmother’s tutelage and exposed to stories and songs from a kaleidoscopic array of cultures, but she rejected it immediately and vehemently. She had only one yang — so far away, and for so long! — and without him, everything was moonlight and shade. A little distractedly, she refocused on Olive and the question the silvern druid posed. The newly named Carina nodded gently, committing herself with an ingénue’s innocence, nibbling with companionable tenderness at the eburnean mother-to-be’s scarred cheek.

It was the prospect of a story that chased the worst of the gnawing, clawing ache from Coelacanth’s Neptune eyes; the airy, toneless whine that trembled from her lips was soft and pleading and her inky visage was undeniably eager as she nodded again, her tail whisking eagerly behind her.