Sea Lion Shores Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars.
~ protector of the sea ~
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All Welcome 

@Minerva if you have time, but honestly AW just looking to thread :)

           

The winds had changed, and the sea began its never-ending cycle, the tide returning ashore. Ostia padded softly along the water’s edge, her trot on a slight diagonal line to keep on the shoreline now that the tide was coming in.

Her paws were caked with the salty water and seafoam she had travelled through. She drew to a slow, coming to a standstill. Looking out along the horizon, Ostia marveled at the moon set high in the sky.
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"A scorpion must sting. A wolf must hunt."
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Warning: Ostia is a bitch, and doesn't care for any outside her own pack and her blood relations. Her opinions and words do not reflect my own.




 
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The sea called to her, as it called to all Her daughters. As much as she tried to resist the pull Minerva could not block the desire from her mind nor her heart, and so she found herself roaming closer and closer. She knew not to venture too far lest the sea rise up against her; she was going against all the signs she had witnessed by being here, but she need only have a taste of that salted air — just a glimpse of the raucous tide, enough to satisfy her.

She saw the figure in the distance. This gunmetal silhouette shrouded by winter light. At first Minerva thought it was a trick; perhaps a figment of her lonely mind, a flare-up of nostalgia and homesickness, except.. Minerva closed the distance and then stopped when the figure was a few lengths away from her, studying the sinuous form of the body, recognizing the feminine aspects.

Taking a chance, she called out: αδελφή?

Had the Mother Sea brought her a gift?
~ protector of the sea ~
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Used to her solitude, the Grecian warrior startled at the sound of another voice. The wind did not favour her this evening, and the breeze swiftly lifted her own scent toward the stranger that had intruded on her solace. The words, however lite a spark inside the woman. The fluid tongue of her home warmed her heart despite the chilly temperatures. Turning sharply toward the voice, Ostia cocked her head to one side, sizing up the other woman.

Through the distance and the winds betrayal, Ostia couldn’t be sure. But a bewildered look came upon her face, and she subconsciously took a few steps closer. “Ναι, είναι Ι. Οστία.”


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"A scorpion must sting. A wolf must hunt."
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Common | Greek
Warning: Ostia is a bitch, and doesn't care for any outside her own pack and her blood relations. Her opinions and words do not reflect my own.




 
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As the stranger drew closer, so too did Minerva. It was like looking in a mirror at first; the light caught upon the stranger and burned in to her eyes, making her squint. She thought she was seeing some kind of mirage. But no, it was real - they were real. That voice -- I am Minerva. The woman introduces herself with some haste, and pauses before the other.

Something about Ostia is familiar. The svelte runner's body, the tones of her coat, the sharp quality to her face; but no, she does not know this woman, although they were still sisters. This one knew the ancient language of her own people and that gave Minerva some hope. I presume you have seen the coast, what is left of it? Everything, ruined. It should not have surprised her that more Nereides would surface now that the chaos had subsided.
~ protector of the sea ~
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ugh mobile post booo!
           

She had deigned to hope that the woman belonged to her family, to the bonded sisters from which she had been separated. Despite the pang of guilt and ache of loneliness, Ostia was intrigued by the woman. Her silhouette almost a mirror of her own.

”Indeed what is left of it.” Despite the carnage of her beloved coast, the pull remained so strong that she refused to leave its side. Knowing, hoping, that she might find another along its shores, another of her kind. Her family held a deep connection to the watery depths, her mothers and her sisters would never leave the Sea. Not if they could help it.

“Where are you from Minerva?” The title of sister stuck to her tongue, her name instead surfacing. Ostia was reminded of the water siren she had met a few days past, although not a Nereides sister such as herself. Perhaps her prayers had finally been answered, perhaps the Sea had gifted her her kin.

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"A scorpion must sting. A wolf must hunt."
{0/5} | {0/5}
 
Common | Greek
Warning: Ostia is a bitch, and doesn't care for any outside her own pack and her blood relations. Her opinions and words do not reflect my own.




 
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They were both in mourning, it seemed. How many days would pass before the Mother would welcome them near again? How long before they both grew so desperate for the touch of her, the taste, that they chance her wrath for a more intimate visit? From where the pair stood now Minerva could make out the beat of waves upon the sand, she could hear the wind blustering and taste the salt in the air, which would have to be enough — but there was doubt in her, not of the Mother but of herself, for knowing that she would not be kept away for long. Perhaps the same was for Ostia, perhaps not.

Where are you from, Minerva? The woman asks of her, and she cannot help but smile that tight-lipped little smirk of someone who is hurting, because she does, deeply. The mainland is too different from what she is used to and no manner of time can help her adapt. Along the Themiscrya Coast, as I suspect you are too. She gave the vague response one saves for the unbelieving, if only to save herself the pain of bringing her island to the forefront of her mind. I have found safety further inland. You could come with me, if you would like. Finally a smile; it is not enough to penetrate her moonshine eyes, but it is genuine.
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”And your suspicions would be correct.” Ostia dipped her head, a smile playing on her lips despite the sore subject. While the discovery of a sister was a precious gift, Ostia was hesitant to venture further inland. Her gaze drifted away from the other woman and toward the expanse of grass and subsequent trees.

”Safety with whom?” The shaking of the earth and the raging storms still frightened her, even if she would never admit it. But the sea, the sea calmed her, and reminded her of her purpose. Ostia wasn’t sure if she could put her faith in anything other than the waves, in spite of the carnage that surrounded them.


3/5
"A scorpion must sting. A wolf must hunt."
{0/5} | {0/5}
 
Common | Greek
Warning: Ostia is a bitch, and doesn't care for any outside her own pack and her blood relations. Her opinions and words do not reflect my own.