Cerulean Cape this rainy day is temporary

Zipporah was rather delighted when the man appeared, her smile curving around her tongue as the young woman lounged on the sand, both ears tipped forward to face him as he came close to her.

He seemed born from beach itself, sandy extremities with a sea foam base. Zipporah, in all her fanciful flights, had never met someone so suited for life on the seaside. Thrilling, to someone who so loved her thrills. The dancer didn’t bother standing. Formalities were a frivolous thing, suited for nobles and their wars of barbed politeness. Kings and their stupid, puffy faces. Or maybe that was just because that’s how she drew them. Zipporah had never actually met a king. She didn’t think she particularly wanted to. They were so dull.

Speaking of dull, the question was as well. She threw her head back with a breathless trill of a laugh.

How droll would that be! Maidens running from monsters, ha! The “ha” came out less a laugh and more a seabird’s squawk.

None if that. I am simply running because I can, and I decided I would!