Coconut Grove quam serena

bumping to present! @Doe or @Skellige, maybe? <3

with a nod to @Ar-Khalba and her sister, eshamun entreated them to keep safe the copse and set off to find others whom she might be able to persuade into molech's service. asherah had remained -- eshamun knew that the girl and ar-khalba had formed a lustful bond, and this pleased the canaanite. if the young one was sated as part of her teaching, perhaps she would not stray.

the breadth of the sea shimmering before her quite took the woman's breath away, and she stood with her greatly rounded sides heaving as a wind rose up from the shoreline and brushed her with salt and the deep musky scent of the brine. eshamun was silent, entreating the eight-armed one with prayers as she slowly approached the lapping waters.

Instead of waiting with bated breath for the pale bitch to find him, the swarthy titan sought to locate her first. Ksenia had been seen only once, and since that day Skellige had been left with a bile in his throat that could not have been washed out by even the strongest of saline waters. He had spent his days prowling with carefully timed glances over his shoulder in search of the ivory Cairn. She had come in without warning and had seemingly vanished just the same. The wraith still did not let his guard down. While he had found his sanctuary and had made his claim over the bay, it only meant that she would have more to steal away from him, and Skellige was not in the business of being stripped of his rank. He had done everything to devote himself to the waters, and yet he did not know if the sea would allow his sister to overthrow him. He did not know if she would steal from him once more.
 
There was one thing he was certain of: the Cairn family would never stray far from the water.
 
So his search was limited to the coast, and he was not at all disappointed with this limited stretch of land. The swarthy titan roamed across the sands with determined steps. He kept his crown held close to the earth, sniffing and searching for a hint of her scent. As was natural, the leviathan was met with disappointment. He had gone so far as the grove, but had still not found familiarity in the aromas around him. There was, however, a foreign figure that caught his eye. Drawing his russet vision across her form, the shadow paused in his trek – curious to what had drawn her to the comfort of the ocean’s bosom.

leviathan indeed -- it was a deep fear that flared in eshamun's breast at the sight of the man who drew near, a hulking brute of darkness and shadow, his markings going all but unnoticed by the ekar-aji. she drew herself up to the slightness of her full height and lifted her chin, though the deference of her gravid body was clear. her eyes, they followed the man and she drew quiet breaths, seeking to steel herself beneath his inspection.

eshamun said nothing - -she would not speak until she was bid -- but a small smile curved her lips into a friendly bow, and she reached out the red flame of her muzzle toward the man, seeking to take her scent and offer her own in return.

He was spectral indeed, with the salt of the waters having claimed the ribs in his body. She was mysterious - a spark struck her gaze and he felt himself pause. 

The wraith was devoted to the water and the great spirits that blessed his pack and his land. He had never strayed from her in all his years. Even when he knew exile, the king of the swell returned to her dutifully. There was a similar devotion in the wolf across from him. His dark gaze glinted as he caught the curling of her lips into a smile. Then, she extended her muzzle to take in his scent and breathe all that he carried in his musk. The silver-ribbed leviathan drew his breath carefully and swiftly so that he might keep a short gap between them. Still, the fur along his neck pricked and he only reared his crown back and up. The deep colors of his gaze danced along the features of her face, and he held fast to the ground beneath him. 

Skellige had never truly mastered the art of a silver tongue. He was superstitious and wary of the wrath of his ancients. If he held his word, he could allow his actions to speak instead. Where he lacked social formalities, he excelled in control of his body. So his tail was raised ever so slightly and his ears pulled forward. 

he drew away from her, this son of the sea, but not before she had gleaned his scent. he was fragrant with salt and with the lashing winds of the north, of the sand underfoot, and of dark things within the unsearched waters. son .. no -- perhaps he was king, and this strand his throne. he certainly seemed so, and to the gentle dominance of his inquiry did eshamun gladly set herself beneath him, seeing no reason to assert herself upon what she assumed to be his land.

but she did not speak, enjoying the sensuousness of their more base communication; her tongue lolled, and against her widened flanks her tail swayed, once, twice. after a moment, eshamun's gaze turned to the ocean,  then swung to the barred ghost before her. was this his domain?

The ocean was his… or so he felt.
 
Skellige had known from his birth that the great tides were to be his calling. The crashing of the waves was like a familiar melody against the length of his inky ears. Though the leviathan did not claim the land on which they stood, he felt as though he had a right to every inch of it. For if the sea were to caress the shores with her loving touch, he belonged there as her king. The wraith was much more than a child of the swell. He was a walking part of her. While he had no place to claim all that she touched, he felt in his soul that it was his right and his fate.
 
As the female drew her muzzle toward the grounds beneath them – an inquiring expression upon her features – his brows were furrowed forward and a gentle wind touched the jagged furs along his neck and shoulders. How was he to answer her without divulging the truth of the matter; that he had claim to a land not far from where they stood, but his heart still belonged to every inch of her beauty. It was difficult to express verbally or non.
 
A bow of his skull had been decided, and he dipped it only slightly for her. Skellige would not waver in his beliefs. The sea belonged to him.

like the man before her, eshamun knew the tophet of canaan to be her calling; it was why she had brought the malkaria and their practices to this new land. whether or not they would survive remained to be seen, but the red woman had faith in her pack to weather the storms that might seek to blight their newness. at the man's gesture, eshamun watched him for a long moment. king of the sea. the ocean.

she folded her ears against her crown and gave the man a look of awe, glancing between his heavy body and the great rippling expanse of brine that stretched out before them. her tail swayed behind her hips; the canaanite was pleased to be in the presence of a wolf who commanded so great an element.

 
How precious that moment was. Though they had no real common interests or beliefs, there was a reverence that spilled between them – he for the gods that she served, and she for the realm that he commanded so dutifully. Skellige had never witnessed one who was so willing to find themselves enraptured with his domain. If he was not subliminally aware of her devotion, he would have requested that she come with him. He would show her the beauty of the great stretching ocean. If she found herself so enthralled with him in that state, there was more power within the plum whiskey of the witch doctor and the warmth of the golden sands. He shared her pleasure; a desire to find himself closer to the woman had overcome him and he breathed a heavy breath that carried her aroma. It was so foreign to him – so mysterious and rich in its own sense.  
 
"What are you called?" He inquired of her with a cracking baritone. The first words spoken between them, but he felt them necessary. "What great being do you serve?" Another inquiry that he felt was needed. Perhaps he had heard of her great ones in tales of his youth. There had been few travelers to pass the shores of his islands, but he had heard of great spirits beyond his realm of understanding.  

despite her gravidity, eshamun found herself warmed by the man's steady gaze, her body responding as if she were a stripling. steeling herself, the canaanite nevertheless allowed herself a quiet smile, glancing up at this king of the roiled salt when he spoke. his voice was raw silk against dry stone, a rasp that was somehow also satin-edged, and charming in a plainly feral way. he recognized in her the awe she felt for his homeland, eshamun decided, and that he asked after her god showed to her that this man was worthy of the respect she had felt so suddenly.

"i am called eshamun. i am the ekar-aji of the malkaria, and we serve molech." her tones were thick with the accent of her homeland, but steady in her confidence in the great one's blessing, and beneath the watchful gaze of the large barred beast. "do you serve a god, nameless one?" she rejoined, her viridian eyes holding that of the man for a gentle moment.

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As her name reached his ears, the inky savage turned his crown toward her with an interested and pointed stare. The string that followed was foreign to him. Skellige had never heard of such a being – Molech – but they must have been great to have gathered such a fierce woman and claimed her as a servant of their might. The length of his inky ears swiveled to meet the accent that adorned her words. He had never heard such a lilt in all his years, but it suited her well enough and was pleasant to the ears of one who knew very little. The question that followed did take him by surprise, and his limbs stiffened at the thought of sharing his ancient ones with this woman. She had offered answers to the questions that he had asked, though, and if he were to deny her knowledge of his great spirits, they would not smile on him.
 
“Skellige,” he introduced with a stoic nod. “And I serve many. The great spirits of the water and the life within,” he explained with a reverence that was rare. The dark glow of his eyes danced along the waves before him and he breathed deeply, engulfing his lungs with the taste of the saline breeze. At once, he could feel that they were pleased with him and they smiled on his devotion… and all was good.

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there were so few who evoked a depth of feeling within eshamun, but this skellige did so, and with an easeful turn of his words that bespoke his utter devotion to the sea, his worship of her saltwater curvature. eshamun knew that this man would never think of a lover in the same vein as the ocean commanded in him — this somehow made the grey-barred skellige more desirable. above all did the ekar-aji hold her god; she could appreciate the utter quiet obsession with the object of one's passion.
"it is my first time looking upon such an expanse," the woman said quietly, turning her eyes upon the lashing sea near to them. "it is beautiful. i come from a dry land, one of heat, but i wish to understand the gods of this place."[/tr][/td][/table]