Stavanger Bay i can see you're lost like me

it came to her in waves.

every bit of it as shallow as the ones that whispered against her joints.

none of it was vital, earth-shattering in nature.

it was the color of her mother's eyes. 

the snorting sound lindalë had made when she laughed too hard.

the smell of the gardens she'd tended, the yapping snarls of wrestling children she'd been charged with. 

the tide pools where she'd learned to swim.

starfall. the sacred mountain. 

iaghe's patchy muzzle lifted, drawing the salted breeze deep into her lungs -- even as a sharp pain pierced through them, an old hurt from the fire. 

for a moment, the urge to leap into the water was almost irrepressible. 

as if she could swim back to aeriön. as if it would all be waiting there for her, just beyond the horizon.

but the spectre did not glide into the ink reflecting the night sky.

she remained fixed upon the shore, a figure torn from those waters and given flesh. letting the echoes of her first life wash over her until they quieted back into the depths of the void.

it was only then that she felt eyes on her flesh, she was alarmed to realize.

good ear pinning to her skull, she turned slowly -- relaxing only when she saw andr's dark form in the trees.

trotting to him, she made to move to his side -- noting with some amusement that he seemed even darker than her in the moonlight. 

regardless of the sea and salt that dampened her pelt, she brushed her temple along the swathe of his chest before nestling in at his side.

"andr," the mute (semi-mute?) murmured softly by way of greeting, a rare smile on her face as her gaze sought his own.