Cerulean Cape the flung spray and the blown spume and the sea-gulls crying

[table width=80%][tr][td]Instead of retreating, Ondine stayed close by the increasingly wild waves and the foaming heads they carried. Even rain did not make her turn her back on the sea - her white coat was drenched and even though the storm was not at its peak yet, she dared not enter the water like she had before. It was dangerous to be so close to Her now a storm was brewing, but she had no other place to go. She made her way along the coast, spotting the sea lions with terrified wide eyes. She was separated from them by a river, and that made her feel slightly safer. All she could think of was her little boy not lucking out like she had and being eaten by one of the large females. In a fit of hysteria and slight mental unstableness did she cower into the dangerous waters of the sea.

While Ondine had grown up near the sea, never had she learned to swim good or even acceptably  well. Nearly immediately did she go under, breathing in sea water and hitting her head on a rock hard enough for her to see a flash of white before she fell unconscious. As a whale did she beach upon the shore of Wheeling Gull Isle, head wound colouring the sand an ominous red.

After some time, her mismatched eyes opened with a grunt of confusion, pain and exhaustion. She could not recall any event before waking up and was terrified to say the least. Pushing herself upon her paws did she try and remember, but all that had stuck with her were the herbs she was to use for her wound. Not even Arrille was a part of her memory now and all the sadness of losing everything had been, quite literally, washed away. Wet and weary did she go into the forest, picking as many plants that she recognised. In clean-water lake-kind of sliver on the land stood... cattail. Cattail... She repeated softly. Cattailll...[/tr][/td][/table]