Sea Lion Shores canopic

they were both dancing now, keeping to the shallows— attempting to push each other further from shore, only to be met by the solid footing of the other. and so the conversation kept to the surface, where their depths could not be exposed. aeglaeca did not push him further to explain his arrival or past. that, too, she could empathize with (and hated herself for it— he did not deserve her empathy, for they were murderers all). she assumed the story was painful, like hers.

bedouin? she wondered, unfamiliar with the term. it is warmer here than i am used to, aeglaeca finally conceded to share. the weather, it seemed, was a topic that felt safe to both of them. i prefer it. she did not miss the long dark.

his question took her off guard, lancing deeper than the talk of weather prepared her for. she furrowed her brows, you think them mutually exclusive? each has their place. i am here, and must trust what i know with my senses. but there is value in tales. and there is purpose from the gods. all of these things must be honored.