Iktome Plains zephyrus

Iktome Plain
Metageit 28
Open! Will close after two weeks if there is no reply. :>

The westward anemoi drew Dianikos along the edge of the great and endless sea, away from the mud-swaddled riverside of Tethys, and the woman was glad for the shift in the scenery. The lush green transitioned to patches of yellowed grass, curving rock formations, and the occasional tree, until all that was around her was a sprawling emptiness.

There was no sound except the howling of zephyrus. She could feel the way the godling's pulsing presence tugged her one way or another, but always inevitably west, and she laughed bashfully with the attention. To any shade who might catch her traipsing this haggard place, she might appear mad from isolation.

Dianikos could still hear the calling of the gulls, distantly. She thought the taste of the sea was everywhere, even when she could not spy the depths from where she crawled. The sun was hot upon her back - the air thick, oppressively so; the tales of the underworld always spoke of the place as frigid and despondent - and so she took the persistent sunshine as a good omen.

the woman was beautiful.

a hawk searching the plains, the prettiest face enigma had seen besides the woman of sapphique. but there was something in those refined features. large and chiseled by strength, even in the leanness.

she was captured at once.

slowly, she began her approach. no place to hide here gave the woman ample opportunity to decide if she wished to avoid the stranger or not.

and although enigma held perhaps ulterior motives, it was not with malice or aggression.

When the wind finally died down (and to her, this meant that the anemoi had given up their game) Dianikos was at a loss. She felt horribly alone and adrift, at once.

Without the gods to push or pull her how would she know where to go? Where was she meant to be, at any rate, when she had wound up here within the underworld? A part of her expected to be recieved by someone; that she be tended to as the offering that she was. It was humility that she lacked. Where was the god she had been promised to? How could she know that her sisters thrived with her sacrifice, when none came to meet her?

Ah, but there, slinking quickly across the empty field, as if summoned by Dianikos' very thoughts! As she beheld the stranger a calm permeated her every inch; she had not been abandoned after all! This shade was here to be her guide, rather than the fickle wind spirits.

She stood in watch of them: this black-faced ghost, at once made of mist as well as shadow, with eyes too dark to see at first. The closer they got the more familiarly oceanic they appeared, and all of this Dianikos was glad to behold. It was within her power to speak — but it was not her right, as a shade herself now, and so she remained alert but silent.

silence was golden.

silence meant no trades happened, silence meant things were expected.

enigma thrived in the morally grey. she nearly danced in serpentine ways before the other woman. coy and cunning, all weaved into one.

this was what she had been sent into the world for!

she began to bound off down the field, beckoning the other woman along with everything but words.

Not a sound shared between the two of them, only a look. What Dianikos would presume to be a welcome, as their gazes locked briefly.

Then the spirit was away!

It danced like it was made of the very wind that blew her so off course to begin with; it led down through the field and away, and Dianikos trusted this to be the messenger she had been waiting for.

She followed, of course. Her energy devoted wholly to keeping pace, winding through the blackened woodland. Her hope was what fueled her; somewhere along this path was the god that was meant to receive her.