Cerulean Cape a thousand miles out to the sea bed

Set a few days before this. @Minerva.

Beneath skies mottled by clouds, Akantha waded through the shallows nearest the spit of land that stretched out into the domain of the Mother Sea. A limitless expanse spread wide to the north of her—an embrace that promised sweet reprieve when the shackles of her mortal coil could finally be shed. And although she could not claim with absolute certainty, she knew countless moons would pass before her time was spent. 

There was so much left to do, after all. 

She pressed deeper into the waters until the gentle swell closed over her back. The biting chill was disregarded entirely, and she kicked off the sloping bed to propel herself forward until she could no longer touch the bottom. A gull kai-yee-yee-yee'd as it wheeled above her head in lazy, swooping circles. Akantha glided through the water with effortless grace until, at last, she submerged beneath the glimmering surface of the cape.

This region was full of life, yet none of it was familiar. There were wolves upon these shores, taking from her Mother and giving no thanks; swimming in Her sublime waters with no semblance of understanding; treading across the sand with so much ignorance that poor Minerva felt her very soul begin to wither.

She felt the strong pull of the sea she so loved, and delved further along the coast until the ridge petered out to sand. Before long she was standing on the slick edge of the water, feeling the boom of the waves as they crested and dragged, watching the white foam - but the fondness Minerva typically held in her gaze was replaced with introspection; not doubt exactly, but worry, concern, a seriousness that didn't suit her.

The call of a gull made her lift her eyes, pivot her ears, but the creature was drifting further out than she could reach. The sound helped to soothe her some, but nothing could stop the woman's growing sense of helplessness. How could she - a lonely sister, a budding Amazon without her rites - even begin to prosper in such a faithless place?

The cradle of the Sea swaddled her in saltwater as she sank downdowndown into the arms of her beloved Mother, watching the distinct orb of the sun fade out of focus as she reached the bottom of the shallow cape. Only then did the sting of the brine against her soft tissues cause her eyes to close. Akantha hung, suspended there for a spell as she listened to a thousand voices speak to her through the chorus of the tidal forces pushing the waves up into the shoals. But, try as she might, her body would not survive without air. 

Akantha kicked, limbs slicing through the water until she, at last, broke the surface with a great gasp—drinking deep of lifegiving oxygen. She instinctively plotted a course to shore, and it was then she glimpsed the she-wolf stood there on the foam-kissed sands. Of note was her demeanor: the pale wolf wore the gravitas of a thousand lifetimes, and it suited her ill. A rumble rolled like thunder in her throat to warn the stranger of her intent to approach, granting her ample time to flee... or to fight, if she so fancied.

From the wake she emerged, water cascading from her dense coat of umber, and tail cricked in apprehension.

She closed her eyes against a biting wind, half expecting the gale to bring her clarity. It stung her eyes and as she opened them, her vision was a blur. The wind grew to a swell and Minerva thought that she would falter against the sand, but it died out slowly - leaving her wind-swept and blinking.

As she closed her eyes again she thought, 'Mother, I did as you asked. I am here, I am waiting —' and as her eyes opened this time, it was to the sight of something dark beneath the waves. Something growing larger as it neared the surface. There is a small splash as a face emerges, shoulders - a Nereides, rising as if to heed her silent prayer.

The woman cannot help but gasp; she steps back and watches the figure take shape, dripping sea water but otherwise intact. Canine. Beautiful — but not familiar. As the wolf advances on to the sand Minerva is watching her - those twin moons set in to her fair face are wide with shock and awe, but she is soundless. Her voice has fled her.

The apprehension she anticipated, nor fear, dominated the stranger's features. Instead she faced Akantha with a look that belied the deeply astounded and awestruck emotions evidentally running rampant throughout her lithesome frame. She hadn't the slightest chance of knowing just how perfectly timed her resurfacing was in cadence with the prayers that Minerva urged to the Mothers; furthermore, she could not pin the woman as a Nereides by appearance alone, but the shell-shocked silence which accompanyed the expression she bore suggested there was more to this she-wolf than met the eye. 

But Akantha was not a graceful creature—she, forged in tempetuous squalls, and hewn by jagged coastlines, stood as a bastion, and a sanctuary, against those who would do the Nereides harm. Her hazel eyes raked across the woman's soundless mouth, then up past the sand-kissed hues of her face to those twin moons set so gracefully in her elegant face. The storm that rolled in her throat lessened in severeity and she stretched ner nose out to sniff the air between them in a display of trust. 

"Who are you, child?" she queried in the common tongue.