Gilded Bay burning jerusalem

@Thelxiope

Komodo had traveled far into the valley, following a scented trail that did not exist, in an attempt to locate the girl of Riptide’s blood. He half expected her feathered form to appear just around the corner, and when she did not, he then convinced himself that she was just over the crest of the hill — but no matter how far he scouted, nothing was found of the veiled ingenue. The circumstances of her disappearance did not sit well with the earthstalker, as he was a man whose life was largely dictated by intuition and wordless, ineffable clairvoyance; so when he couldn’t shake the insomnia and disquiet that Coelacanth left in her wake, he moved to action. 

There was also duty that drove the earthstalker; he felt strong sense of brotherhood between him and the distringuished Riptide, and thus felt a certain responsibility for the entire lineage. So Komodo prayed and made small sacrifices so that the gods might gift him the sight, but the gods too had gone dark on him — also not a good sign.

Without a single clue to guide him, the brute made his way back to the coast. The misted shoreline was a familiar place, though the man had always a mind keen on mapping and did not often forget the places he had been. Very quickly did Komodo learn that, no, the sheepdog had not yet reappeared on the coast — so he went ahead and picked his path westward, intent upon following the tide as far as he could. The man slept amongst the inland greenery but traveled upon the beach. Early one morning, he was pulled forth, towards the bay, to greet the morning as it dripped in the gold of the sun. It was beautiful and tranquil, so Komodo stepped lightly — the brute did not want to pierce the veil of the morning with unnecessary sounds. 

She did not know if she would leave the coast for a while yet. It was a powerful place, a beautiful place, and she would loathe to leave it. Here met the ocean with land, the sky above was ever tranquil and the cliffs and forests of this place meant that everything she could possible want and need was here, in this place. thus morning found her still by the coast, folded neatly in the relative shelter of a boulder, worn smooth by wind and sea. she was roused not by sound, but the light that danced upon her closed eyelids. 

morning came in a dazzling sun that hung low over barely stirring water, colouring everything gold. there was a stillness, a soundless veil that hung over the morning, disturbed by the distant movement of waterfowl against the sun turned dark, the minute tremblings of things that existed in the place between sea and land. she rose languidly, moving softly to the water's edge, taking no notice of the male further down the beach, but somewhat aware of his presence. she moved forward until the water caressed her limbs, featherlight frame steady as the waves tugged at her limbs. gaze fell closed, feeling around her the waking of the earth.