Really bad eggs.

Akira · May 03, 2019, 01:45 PM

It is already too late to swim when the water reaches your lips.

She had watched over from the peak where she had strolled with Ford once before. The same knoll of sanded land, suffocated by absence and drowning in the solitude from the crashing of the sea, below. It was a coastly day, one to be shared with the azure waves, yet the Swan found no peace in these absent lands. She had met none other than Hogo in this place she served- and Elixir had vanished eons prior. Ford was the only soul she craved to see once again, but his trail had gone cold as it neared the dense wreaths and brushels of forestry beyond- that was far enough where his own scentings did not permeate. Safety would forseake her, and who was to say she too would not end up as her Emperor had?

A dapple of darker hues singled freely to the crystalline waters, edged in a golden fire of neckline and collar. They stood fearlessly in the sea, strongly suggesting to the warrioress that they would not quake if the Blue should decide to swallow them right then and there. Her curiosity engulfed her and before long, she flew free from the knoll in swift and careful steps. Down the side of the plane above, and grounded eventually upon the wet and squished land. Soon, grass too did not dare tread where her pale paws daringly stalked, and she was left alone to face whomever this contemplating spirit was.

Her reserved speech was saved for Ford, and feeling as though it was her who had been here the longest, who hadn’t seen this man until his appearance today, her lack of regard for title was a challenge in it’s own gall. Her voice was strong, that of a woman from no fear, and though her stature was quick null to the bulk of the wolf within the waves, she carried herself twicefold in mind.

“If it is peace you seek, none will be found within these lands.”

Her body halted, sleek and queer in pattern, ivory and cream majority with an obsidian and blue tinted cape sliding graceful against her spine. The same darkly sheen tipped her ears, the same auds that were primely focused on the soul before her. Sapphires struck to his body, one too of strange patterning, and she wondered if he heralded his own legacy in further lands, as she had, once. The lap of waves pulled her assessing free and she spoke again, hoping she would be able to draw him in close enough to bypass the saline air, to taste the scents that lie upon his own hide,

to see if he had had anything to do with her Emperor’s disappearance.

“But if it is not peace, what brings you to this place?”

Not all birds have been taught to fly. Some simply fall until they either learn, or perish.