Arrow Lake i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;

✹☾❂

 

The thought had crossed her mind, several times up to this point. How did he know where she was from? In their first meeting, she had made a definitive point not to reveal the lands she was sworn to defend, from him. Here still, it was information that she played close to her chest, as she knew she was nearing enemy territory — and being so close to the fabled ‘desert place beyond the mountains,’ Eleuthera was painfully aware that she knew close to nothing of Revui and his loyalties. Perhaps they were enemies. Perhaps this was his way of telling her.

Like most things, Eleuthera believed she might be able to will it out of existence if she ignored it hard enough. or she might be able to use that later. She didn’t know at this point, so she focused more on the former. If he wanted to do bad things to her, there wasn’t much she could do except maybe charm her way out of it — and monsters, if he was one, didn’t much like being told they were monsters. But either way, she entertained at least a small amount of trust for Revui that had been left with her from their first encounter. In fact, she more than didn’t trust him. She actually liked him.

“Trust me, the shade doesn’t help much."

The lilac woman had been on her small journey for the past several days, and the oppressive heat had been something she noticed daily. She found herself willing the sky to rain (a prayer she would eventually come to regret) and took forested roads rather than her preferred plains. Either way, she couldn’t deny the cooling effect the shower had on her, so Eleuthera too moved forward to slake her thirst and take inspiration from his brutish mannerisms. 

Eleuthera leaned down her fine-point crown, pursing her lips to draw in the water, pushing her nose into the cool, crystallin riverbank — eventually submerging her entire maw, up to her cheeks in the water. It was hot, and it felt good, and now their pelage matched in their dampness. The only difference was, rather than shake herself of the water, she tipped her muzzle to the sky and let it run down her neck and chest, like an egret washing itself in a lapping tide.