Gilded Bay I can make you scared

WC: 1689
No need to match length- just throwing out a day's worth of words so I can have a day off if I need it.

 

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Under the cerulean sky, the beach was bright, and the waters surging along the coast sparkled and frothed as they lapped at rocks softened by years of being rubbed together under the force of the tide. The sand there was soft and white, fine and smoothe underfoot, loose where it was dry making walking a bit more difficult. For one who lived along the ocean, who existed to praise and revere the ocean, it was no issue whatsoever. The Nereides woman had been walking on sand and seastones for her entire life, and found no difficulty in strolling along the shore. The clever woman knew to walk where the sand was damp, where the tide had pulled back in the past hour and where the water couldn't quite reach her. Here, the sand was pack hard, and her feet barely left marks as she moved along the shoreline. She hardly ever left the ocean's proximity as she had roved South along the shores, away from the land where it was much colder already and sprinkled with a coat of white which would last until into the next spring. She'd come from a land where the mountains rolled down to the ocean, with little to nothing in between but trees that were so large around that they could hide several wolves standing side by side. She traded dense, arboreal rainforest for this open expanse where open plains stretched away from the ocean rather than being sheltered by mountains. She felt unprotected, but the surge of the ocean kept her from feeling vulnerable. Nothing could harm the Nereides woman so long as she was within reach of the salty waters that she prayed to. She moved along through the area throughout the day, eventually finding herself a place to rest for a few hours.

Once the sun had gone down, the sky was mostly clear., revealing patterns of stars that shone and twinkled in the dark skyscape. Amidst the stars, the moon rose above the horizon, peering over the edge of the ocean where the waters glinted and tossed gently. The alabaster she-wolf emerged from her resting place just as the moon rose above the horizon, and she walked down to the shoreline, listening to the gentle whisper of the water along the shores, which was where she stopped, first. She gazed out over the ocean, before she turned her back and returned to the small seaside cave where she had been resting. A few moments later, she emerged with a skell- a beautiful thing, an abalone shell which had been cleaned out thoroughly so that all of its brilliant, beautiful colours showed plainly. Ribbons of pinks, greens and silvers wove together in patterns somewhat reminiscent of the shape of waves. It was a treasure of a find, that was to be certain- it would have made a beautiful ornament if she had had any intentions on keeping it. She had found the shell- still closed- during the daytime and had opened it, cleaned it out and had held onto it, guarding it in the little cave until night had come. No wolf would touch the shell but she- it was her prize and it would be her humble offering. She felt proud as she returned to the ocean's edge, the shell hanging from her mouth gently.

When she reached the water's edge, she closed her eyes and bowed, sinking her front end down the the sane, and tucking her head so that the bridge of her nose was parallel to the ground and only a few inches from the wet sand. The water rose to greet her, running past her front feet and up to her forefead where it gently kissed the white fur there, as though to baptise her. Gratefully, she sighed before she straightened up, a few droplets of salt water running down her temple and onto her cheekbones. She didn't bother to wipe the water away, and she indeed considered it to be a blessing of sorts, as she baptised herself with the salt water. She closed her eyes again, as she straightened, mentally speaking a silent prayer to the gods Doris and Nereus, waiting until yet again the waters were pulled toward the land, washing past her front feet. She remained there, hearing the same silent prayer over and over again inside her mind until the waters pulled past her front feet and eventually touched her hind feet. Only then did she believe that she was being welcomed into the ritual that she would perform under the full moon that had risen off the horizon now, though it still remained hanging low and casting its silvery light over the shoreside.

Nike moved forward then, slowly stepping through the waters with such grace that she hardly created a disturbance that would have been seen past the ripples in the water created by the waves. It was as though she had spilled into the water like a fluid being herself, and like fluid into fluid, she was simply blending in with the material that matched her genetic makeup. She moved into the cold waters, ignoring the sting of the chill in her bones and adjusting as quickly as her body would allow her to do. Once she had waded in to a depth where the water rose up to her chest and along her underside, chilling her ribcage, she stopped. Once there, she raised her head, presenting the brilliant, beautiful inside edge of the shell to the moon which hovered in the sky. She did not speak, but she closed her eyes and again silently prayed to the moon, asking for blessing and courage, for the supply which she needed. Of course, like any other Nereides, her task in life was to glorify the gods and to bless them with female children. She would need to find a home- or create her own pack of Nereides here, finding others who were also blessed by the ocean, recruit a few consorts- but not too many, of course, as they were useless for the greater part of the year- and then set a course that would bring her the greatest satisfaction in life. Nike was young yet, and perhaps a bit experienced- but certainly not without ambition. This why she had chosen the most beautiful shell she could find, to present to her gods in order to appease them. If she did so, and if they were pleased, then she had full faith that she would be able to get what she wanted.

With a movement deft but gentle too, she cast the seashell out into the waters where it disappeared quickly below the surface as though the Gods had reached out and collected it the moment it touched the ocean's surface. There, she closed her eyes and began to pray audibly in her mother tongue. Her quest was clear- at least, it would be to anyone who spoke Greek. She sought to thank and glorify Doris and Nereus, though with more emphasis on Doris as Nike- in her youth and foolishness- still harboured a great deal of resentment toward males. They were useless, except for presenting the gift of life directly from Nereus. And even then, Nereus sometimes cursed a Nereid with male spawn. There was no greater dishonour than to give birth to a litter of pups which were only males. It meant that one had a lot to atone for. Nike had yet to conceive a litter, and she both dreaded and feared conceiving even one male spawn among her children. Thus why she had so eagerly accept the mission that had been put before the group of young Nereids who wished to go forth, spread the word of Doris and start their own packs. If she could, as well, then joining another pack and converting them was another option, though slightly more difficult as it was easier to persuade individual wolves than it was to persuade an entire pack.

Once she had finished, she bowed down again, this time submerging her head. She exhaled as she did so, blowing a stream of bubbles to the surface before she held her breath for a few moments. Once a wave reached her and slid along her spine, covering her entire body momentarily, she emerged, a dripping white spectre surrounded by the cool waters of the ocean. Convinced that her offering had pleased the Gods, she turned and left the ocean, her ritual now completely finished. He felt more relaxed as she emerged from the ocean and shook her pelt dry, as though a weight had been lifted from her supple shoulders. With her coat drenched, she looked smaller than ever, but she convinced herself that her size was not an issue. What she did need to work on was changing her aspect and balancing out her nature. Though she was a devout wolf, she was still much more of an Amazon than she should be. She would need to engage her spiritual side more often if she ever wanted to be a proper Siren Queen. But time would simply be the one to tell if she was ever able to tame a spirit which was devout, yes, but still too brash, too quick to act and speak, rather than listening for guidance from the gods first. Patience was not a virtue the small wolf possessed in great quantity, even though she never tired of making offerings to the Gods. She continued along the shoreline again, still scouting out the lands to see if she could find somewhere that might be worthy of a new colony of Nereides. She wanted her pack to be the loveliest of them all, so blessed that only female pups were ever born. She was convinced that such a thing could be accomplished- and if anyone could, it would be her. She only had a few months left before the breeding rituals would begin, if the Gods chose her to conceive at all. She would have to find a home before then, and begin the task of converting any followers she met into Nereides.

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her search for fire persisted: back home the wolves of the plateau might have noticed her absence, and wondered if she too had visited whatever avenue had claimed the plateau’s redfaced phoenix. 

impossibly, her search carried her through deadwood and quiet bosk until at last it deposited her at the base of a golden-winged strand. 

for a long time Caiaphas hung under the protective cover of shivering trees, staring out at that all too familiar yet hostile expanse. 

not since the bear had she seen the swell of water. not since her home had been sundered had she witnessed the break of whitecaps on a blue wave’s roached back. 

bit by bit something shuffled behind those tired eyes, unfurled its dusted wings and shook off the stagnant drapes of repression which had imprisoned it. 


Caiaphas had known to return to the sea might be her undoing; to be reminded of the scar that had only just healed over, fresh and still so very poignant in her mind’s eye, might have unraveled her. 

for long time her gaze traveled over those flitting waves, something deep and internal working in that sharp mind; rearranging, clicking small pieces into ostensible place.

and then the sylph moved, drawn from her reverie by the unmistakable sound of a voice over the drone of the wind and the slap of the waves. a voice which carried with astounding clarity, its’ tongue not just familiar, but known — recognized, even. 

it was then the last surviving member of the nereides’ first and gruesomely misfortunate expedition caught sight of a pale figure embraced by the rough hands of the sea; the progenitor of the voice that murmured softly over the swell. 

Caiaphas lingered on the swashline, as if some miserable ghoul summoned forth by the woman’s chanting. she stood there, sorrowful eyes cast upon her summoner while the wind picked up in a high moan around them.

WC: 364

The change in the wind's moan prompted Nike to lift her fine muzzle, gazing along the coast until her vision landed on a spectral figured who had appeared there as though summoned by the ocean's swell. Naturally, Nike was quick to assume that this female had come to the ocean's edge because it actually did call her; most wolves who felt they shared a spirit with the waves were ones who could be converted to join the Nereides. Those who had been swallowed by the waves and cast ashore were the same- any wolf who could be rescued from an otherwise certain death by the waves could be baptized as Nereides and join the ranks once they had been educated and initiated. Nike felt herself slightly superior to those wolves, simply given the fact that she had been born a Nereid, to wolves who had practiced the ways of the Nereides for years and years. But initiates were also beloved members of the pack, as they became sisters who were just as inseparable as those who had been joined together by blood.

The female who had been drawn to the coast was a tough-looking sort, more Amazon than Nymph or Siren, she decided. There was a grim sort of determination to her lean features, and something that hinted at a mixed heritage in her build and in the shape of her face. Still, she had the colouration of a certain type of seal she had seen before, where her head was darker than the rest of her body, which was more pearl in colour. She liked the look of the woman, sharp and angular as she was, as there was a brightness to her eyes that proclaimed a high spirit. And high spirits could be incredibly devout when guided properly.

She approached the female demurely, tipping her head in greeting. ”χαιρετισμούς αδελφή
“ She said. ”Greetings, sister,” had been her words. Even though she realized that the majority of wolves in these parts wouldn't understand her, it was still in her birth tongue that she chose to greet strangers. The warmth and familiarity was present, regardless, as she spoke and greeted her sister.

as she lingered between the pound of the surf, the pale vision in the water turned to face her: caiaphas felt jostled by those wintergreen eyes - which were at once both familiar and new.

the water-nymph strode confidently in her direction, parting from the sea in frothy rivulets. caiphas had half-expected some greeting in the coarse tongue she had been born with -- and instead, was met with the velvety prose of her deceased sisters.

her gaze became sharp, thorny -- as far as she had known, she had been the last to survive -- and none too easily, either. theirs had been a violent and bloody chapter in caiaphas' life, closed all too soon.

it had been years since she had spoken the tongue of their mother, and mistrustful of her skill in that long-slumbering dialect, caiaphas faltered: "how?"

WC: 480

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The response she was given caused Nike to pause and regard the siren before her in a new light. It seemed as though the sharp-featured female was surprised to hear something in her own language, which she spoke even though she seemed to falter a bit- as one would stumble and grasp at something which had long been dormant. She leaned forward slightly to sniff the air between them, trying to suss out if she knew the female’s scent, or if she could place her to any particular colony of Nereides that she had visited- but though she smelled of a pack, it was certainly not one belonging to the Nereides that she knew. She could smell males...And any proper Nereides woman wouldn’t allow themselves to come into contact with a male whatsoever, unless it was for the breeding ritual. Still, she supposed, this female had had to adapt. She doubted that there were any Nereides colonies in this area, from the female’s reaction.

In case the angular, surprised female before her had been away from her Greek bretheren for too long, Nike decided to speak to her in the common tongue, though she found it somewhat ugly and awkward. The words didn’t flow as well, and she found herself stumbling every now and again as it was a language that she herself did not use terribly often. She had been taught, but had never been terribly interested in learning a language that belonged to heathens. She’d been incredibly stubborn when she had been very young, and had learned English somewhat begrudgingly. It was a language more suited for consorts, and nothing else.


”My name is Nike Nereides,” She said, forcing herself to slow her speech down when pronouncing her name so that her first and last name did not combine too quickly. ”Nike,” She reiterated, for the female to understand better. ”I come from the Neroponti Nereides, of Zephyra Grotto, to the far North,” She said. ”I have come in search of sisters...To start a Nereides...Colony, a pack, here.” She said. She looked the female over again, and was yet again distracted, somewhat, by the obvious deviation from standard protocol, with reference to the use of coyote blood that was obviously present in Caiaphas’ lineage. Why would they have taken in a coyote male for breeding purposes? Surely that had to be the case- there was no way a Nereides woman had been a coyote...Unless she had been given unto the Nereides by the sea, of course. There was always that possibility. With that in mind, she tried not to allow herself to judge Caiaphas until she knew the true story behind her lineage. ”Where do you come from?” She asked then, expecting to understand, then, which group of Nereides this woman had come from.

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the siren queen had seen a great many things in her life - some extraordinary, some not.. yet as she stood before nike she could not help but feel she was looking in the cold eyes of a ghost: hadn't nereides failed fantastically each time they braved this cold and unforgiving continent? kevlyn's memory drifted threateningly close to the surface, and caiaphas buried its cold-grey face with firm thoughts of her living children.

nike spoke once more, this time adopting caiaphas' native tongue with labor; the sylph was frowning as she listened, wondering how to best break the news to nike that the last installment of nereides had been slaughtered at the helm of duskfire glacier: and those that survived, if living after seeing the horrors of war was anything to call 'surviving', had slithered off to unknown climes.

"there have been many." she interjected, suddenly finding within herself the confidence to speak the themiscyrian tongue. "and they all failed. you stand not too far from where i knew of them last." it wouldn't have made sense for themiscyra to branch out here again; caiaphas was content that the matriarchs of that distant shore had become well acquainted with how hostile the teekon was - and had likely sent no further disciples to slaughter.

as for the question of where caiaphas had come from.. she seemed conflicted in how best to answer, for her birthplace had very little correlation with the rest of her life, and would mean nothing to a nereides. "somewhere far from here -- but, i was found by themiscyra." she wondered if this zephyra grotto had known of her colony's presence, or if they had just simply both come to the teekon by divine providence.

caiaphas didn't believe in divinity anymore -- it had been moons since she had prayed or held vigil, and she was no longer a religious woman in any way except for one: caiaphas knew death was the one true motivator -- and death alone the only irrevocable force on this desolate heap of rock. she kept this blasphemy to herself, finding that strangely, she didn't look on nereides with much fondness anymore. after all, they had left her to die on that grey shore.. and she hadn't.

"i was the siren queen of ankyra sound - second in line after aktaie nereides. ankyra sound is no longer - it perished. this is no place to colonize - you will find out for yourself soon enough."

WC: 486

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Caiaphas looked as though she was about to express disdain when Nike began to speak in the common tongue, but she felt it was likely the easiest way to speak, if Caiaphas was so rusty at speaking Greek. There was also the possibility that Caiaphas had only learned a bit of Greek, at which point it would have made no sense whatsoever for her to speak at length in her mother tongue. She wasn’t terribly bothered by it- it could be hard to ruffle Nike’s feathers when she believed she was doing the right thing, and she was only trying to be considerate by speaking the common tongue, not demeaning or condescending. She wanted information relayed to the sharp-featured female, and this, she believed, was the best way to do it.

Nevertheless, it relieved her when Caiaphas spoke her reply in the mother tongue, causing Nike to visibly relax with a sigh. Her news wasn’t the best, though, and she seemed to have given in to the failures experienced by the Nereides in this area. She frowned, and considered why that might have been, and ended up deciding that perhaps wither Caiaphas was not fit to lead them- or the wolves in this area simply weren’t willing to listen to their preaching or adapt the way of the Nereides. From what she had learned of other wolves, they considered males and females as equals- or worse, the considered males to be of greater power, which she found to be ridiculous. Regardless, if that was the case, she would have a tough time reinstating a Nereides pack here if one had already failed.

When she mentioned Ankyra Sound and the name Aktaie, she did brighten up a bit. She was of a good lineage, then; and it seemed that they would be distant cousins. She nodded in recognition at the name, but didn’t necessarily appreciate the fact that Caiaphas had lost faith and given up on colonizing the area. She was even bold enough to discourage Nike, who was stubbornly willing to give it a chance...Maybe. Then again, perhaps she was better off heading further South where she would find wolves who were easier to persuade. ”We are cousins,” She stated. ”I am a descendant of Oreithyia, High Priestess to Aktaie...And who stood in for her, when Aktaie lost her way,” She said. Of course, Oreithyia had given back the title once Aktaie’s faith had been renewed, but that was several generations ago, and Oreithyia’s daughter had split off from the pack to form a colony of her own.

”I may not settle here, then...Unless you would like to take on the endeavour with me,” She said, proposing that they join forces. She sensed, though, that the female before had lost her faith...But like their ancestors, long ago, she knew that the faith could be found again.

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she felt a prickle of something -- dissent, possibly -- rouse the fur along her back as nike spoke of aktaie. lost her way? the sylph kept her skepticism to herself, but perhaps it was true -- perhaps aktaie had seen the futility of the nereides' culture, like her.

caiaphas was far from a paragon of the nereides clan - yet she suspected that much of her current life would be viewed poorly in nike's eyes. she could not -- and would not -- go back to themiscyra, nor back to the culture that had strummed along her hopes and beliefs, and then left her there to die.

she could go back to ankyra though; considering it with a quiet sort of contemplation, caiaphas looked along the beach. it was true she had missed the strand, but it had not been any kinder to her than the plateau had. 

"i will not." she declined, though her tone was not hostile. imagining her son treated as less than dirt brought unwelcome bile to her throat. "but if you would like, i can show you where they settled. perhaps that place might be of use to you."