Sequoia Coast i am not the only traveler, who has not repaid his debt

The mountains no longer called her name, their whispers blew in directions opposite her own. Perhaps she was never meant to be there, despite the telling of her mother, for the coast spoke louder than they ever had. She did not understand the pull nor the ocean’s voice—it was nothing like the mountains, stars, or anything else she’d heard before—but she did not fight it. Like bees to honey she was drawn in and, unsurprisingly, ensnared within its grasp; for the first time after so many cycles of the moon, she did not feel the need to venture out into new terrains. She stuck to the coast, the soft sand and snow underfoot gradually softening her pads, ridding her of the rough texture developed during her life in the mountains.

Slow steps led her down the beach that day, the ocean to her right and inland to her left. She lost track of time, forgetting the position of her shadow against the loose earth when she set out, but wondered if it even mattered. She considered turning back but something drew her forward; there was a whisper infused with the breeze, luring her west with a voice so sweet she felt appalled by the notion of ignoring it. So gentle the words were, unlike anything else to touch her ears. She did not recognise it, not at all, but she followed like the obedient lamb she was—until she met an interruption in the scenery ahead of her, a form hunched over that she could not turn away from. Even from a distance away yet, she saw the various slicked portions of his coat, weighed down with water and smelling strongly of the sea; it clogged her nose, she could pluck out not a single scent other than the sea’s life force. It wasn’t until she was closer, legs moving without her permission, that she was able to recognise who it was—and she felt a breath hitch in her throat, startled and fearful, worries extended towards the man.

“Kierkegaard…?” the child called, voice wavering. Swallowing her nerves, she crept even closer yet, head low and ears back. “What hap-happened? Are you… are you alright?” The fear she once felt towards the pallid beast had long since faded, leaving behind something similar to respect and perhaps even admiration. Yet, to see him at the mercy of the sea, all she could feel welling up within her breast was concern.