Blackwater Islands sea of voices

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Recently, large swathes of Indie’s time had been dedicated to practicing her swimming — and she was really getting quite good at it. It had become almost a ritual for her to shake off the ligature of sleep with a brisk swim in the tidal waters; then, afterwards, she would preen herself and watch as the sun rose over the sea; and would watch it once more when it set over the mainland.The woman had forgotten how good this felt — to have a mission, of sorts. A chance to learn something new and be someone different; a self imposed directive that she took to happily.

It was here, in the unknown, where Indie thrived. When she was in the ocean, it was not the sensation of flying that thrilled her [though it was fun]; no, she was thrilled in the moments when she paddled too deep and lost her footing and her heart leapt from her throat and she didn’t really know what was going to happen next but it was all going to be alright because she could roll with the ocean’s punches. Indie did not commune with the ocean for any sort of spiritual guidance; often times it pummeled her and rolled her up on the shore like so many fish, thus she found she could not trust it as the sirens did —  but the vamp did like the sea because it challenged her. Battling the waves, she would thing this is what life is supposed to be like: improvisation and practice, liberty and fealty. 

Here, in the wilds, it was only the sea that could get her there.

It was spring and it was the season of plenty — and an added bonus of her closeness with the sea was a healthy appetite for seafood. Indie had taken to the white-fleshed creatures with a hunger she had never felt before; she delighted in the sweetness of it upon her tongue. But when fish couldn’t be caught Indie gladly took to crustaceans and other tidal pool goodies, just as she was doing that day; picking across the tidal pools of the beach and inhaling any small creatures that entered her path. Soon, a large creature entered her path — Akantha. Her Matriarch was silent but Indie could not help but chuff richly as she closed the distance between them. As Indie came nearer she slowed and halted, a grin writ upon her maw and her swarthy pelt damp and salt-strung. “Akantha, it is good to see you.” a small sweep of her head signified that, yes, Indie did indeed know her place — but her relentless smile evinced the amity she felt towards the queen.
 

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