Ankyra Sound pond rings

something bloomed in her chest, like dried seaweed melting between lips — something that would not leave the back of her mouth, between her teeth.
she'd left something behind. and it wasn't that she wanted it back, moreso feeling that she hadn't turned the stove after leaving her house.
was her crew still out there? not looking for her, surely?
ah, bombaclatt!
jhonny. she who beheaded him, put silver to his dome, hacked his neck, and bore his head to her fearful countrymen. definitely his fucking fault! a neutral static assaulted her limbs. she needed a swim to think.
on her way to the sound to investigate a bit further, she whistles a tune to herself.

a new face joined the cliffs. sobeille watched her from the cover of shadow-studded leaves.

she was dark, svelte, and her green eyes spoke of intriguing danger.

as the woman whistled her way down the sound, sobeille followed -- making a game of how long she could stalk her under the guise of stealth.

yay a sobeille! <33

the words of the ancient mariner rhyme were lost on her, and she sighed as she touched ground on outcropping. for a daughter of the sea, her spirit often hawked and spat like rum over a curling fire, and her mother often dropped her into the waters to cool her tantrums.
something sent the quills of clumped hair along her back on their feet, and she shuddered s she quickly looked behind her. how weird!
she quickly brushed it off, moreso out of carelessness and self-assuredness if anything, one her prized traits, for sure. she quickly searches for the easiest way to descend and hopscotches to her next perch.

how could i resist?<33 i love the gif u used btw

once or twice now, the obsidian she-wolf paused, the delicate curve of her spine lifted as she cast her emerald gaze around her.

sobeille shrank back each time.

her game was short lived. there was no way to be stealthy out in the open, and as the woman began to make her descent, it became clear she did not know the footpath.

de path be dat way, she almost said -- but a morbid intrigue possessed her and stilled her tongue.

what does a body look like when it's broken by the cliffside?

tumblr is a treasure trove for the most obscure breathtaking images and words ever lol

haphazardly she touches ground one, two, three times—letting a pregnant breath slip with relief. unawares, she found her footing, but what now?
she steadies herself in thought. i mean there's water right there. lopping backwards, she the pelagic spirit throw all caution to the sea and jumps—!

sobeille held her breath as the woman bounced, waiting for that inevitable slip --

it never came.

she resigned herself to exposing her presence, only suddenly, the woman jumped!

sobeille rushed forwards, mouth agape. the waters that thundered below the cliffs were famously treacherous, and yet, this wild woman --

jumped --

she bent over the lip of the cliff, searching the dark headwaters. did she make it?

she was flush in saltbrine as she bobbed up, puffing her breath in a thrumming rush of adrenaline and cut off laughs of triumph.

now, this is what it meant to be a pirate of the pearl!

swimming was walking, walking was an artful frontstroke to the now silent shore, whereas the bay seemed to gape in reverential silence of her daredevil stuntwork.

leve chante ou a nan syèl la,
pou nonm lan ak je li ki manke a~!

she singsonged in a breathless idle way, feeling the static in her body dissipate to nothing.

for a few rhythmic beats of the surf, the sea remained unbroken. just as sobeille considered the exciting possibility she'd witnessed a suicide, a large bubble burst the surface, followed by the dark form of judith's head.

disappointing.

from the distance, a shanty reverberated over the waves.

sobeille began to pick her way down the cliffs, eyes on the distant shore where judith's form bobbled.

jude briefly shook out her waterlogged form to see sobeille's charcoal black form over the heads of the saltstones--then a her rubicund limbs--down a path. the albatross half-laughed to her own chagrin!

curioser, the girl looked like she missed the last bus at the station. girl, d'you be 'avin a problem?

a weaselly grin to her apparent stalker.

hailed by the witch of the sea, sobeille made no attempt to hide her open stare.

what was the purpose of jumping from above?

did she have a problem? sobeille flipped through a catalogue of replies. which did judith want? flippant or honest?

a self-destructive part of sobeille wanted to just once lay bare her chest and tell someone everything —

she severed that thought mercilessly.

i t’ink you be havin’ de problem. what you be jumpin’ from de cliffs for? you missed de rocks, if dat was your aim.

the girl's stare is one she's unaccustomed too, odd but intriguing treasures that bid a siren song to overzealous sailors who would surely be cursed if they stared into them too long. sobeille was off-putting, but to judith saw in her girl she once knew too--inquiring of strangers and treading on fault lines.

but she wasn't an unkind witch, well meaning really! she did have a problem, but as always, it didn't really press her after a good adrenaline rush.

...because it's fun ta me? bu' not e'erythin' be needin' a reason! why, jealous of my dive, pougie?

if sobeille cracked open her chest, what would come out of it? would judith see something obscenely biological — or would she see what sobeille felt was there — the black tendrils of rot and hate?

she set upon her heels, digesting judith’s remark. she wasn’t jealous - she knew that jumping wouldn’t give her the same adrenaline boost as —

what a pougie be? sobeille asked suddenly, wondering after this woman. she was so different and yet familiar - what had her childhood been like? her parents?

"a teeny fishie. too teeny to eat, so ya," with a supplemental sweeping motion of her arm, "throw em' back in."

"not a bad t'ing, pougies get to live, don' dey?" he raised an eyebrow inquisitively at sobeille, similarly wondering if she would be taken as a woman who sincerely needed to worry about her way more pressing problems than bullying random children at the pool or a teasing pry at what was the seagirl's clammy personality!

sobeille took this explanation in stride. she examined the merits of such an epithet, deciding she would rather be a small fish released to the sea, than a large fish stirring in the stomach of a predator.

besides, creatures had a way of assuming the best in little things — something sobeille would learn to wield to her advantage.

you be a funny wolf. sobeille stated at length; her tone flat enough to convey it was not meant in cruelty. what was your maman like?