The sky island was as lonely a place as the Falls, though it was busier at this moment in time than the land of streams and rivers, to be sure. Most of the herd had gone to the south and rode upwards, if the lack of bodies and sounds of passing people are to be taken at first guesses, which is fine by me – Dog is the social one of our pairing, and it bothers me little that she has, yet again, only my company for the day.

She, of course, has other opinions; her boredom is like a thick, wooly gauze over my consciousness though she struggles to keep it at bay with an insane game that involves darting ahead of me only to barrel back around the other way. It has been repeated numerous times as I wade through the tall, dying grasses that recolor under the cool palms of autumn, and I wonder as I come upon the first of the streams to cross our vale.

The meadow lies just past the figure of the large, uneven stone that has earned the titled Slanted Rock, my ultimate destination for the afternoon as my lips descend and pull gently the waters into my mouth. Lazy, my wings shadow a broad region where they hang almost as if forgotten on either side of me; that they have not been is evident when my head rises and their tips follow suit, the expanse beating the air several times before I raise from the earth and drift across the water rushing past.

Skýlos yips and bounds on the opposite shore, never one to enjoy fording streams or touching any body of water for that matter; she has good reason, I suppose. The poor thing isn’t much of a swimmer, seemingly too dense of bone structure to float and with minimal webbing in her toes unlike some species of water wading hound to pull her along, but as I land across from her on the other bank, a most shocking surprise meets with my mind, as if a wave of warm, delightful water is suddenly rushed over my psyche.

And then, I hear her.

”But it move fast!” comes a young, female voice, the aura of the sound strange and foreign; I had read in the library of Elysia that, over time, our companions may gain such a skill, but it takes me by surprise and leaves me whirling back around to stare with wide, pupiless eyes at the figure of my dog.

”Cee-lay, wet!” she nearly shouts at me from our bond, her blue eyes meeting my own with worry bright and shining in their depths, and while I am still shocked and curious, I find myself laughing at her panic. There is no other option for Dog, surely she knows this; to her left is a smaller stream intersecting the large one that she needs to ford to get across to me, leaving her with only one option – the same that the blue toned Dog argued against every time it became apparent they’d have to cross the waters.

"I can’t carry you anymore, you deilós of a Dog," my words are sharp and condescending, her dismay apparent (for she knows the tongue of my homeland as surely as she knows the color of my soul) as our eyes meet from across the water. Weakly, her tail wags in my direction. "You will have to ford it like all the others. Don’t make me toss you across by your tail, Dog."

As if her tail has heard the threat, it tucks beneath her haunches, her eyes sorrowful and piteous as she trots back a few paces and returns her eyes to the stream, our mental bond ushering forth a ream of curses and worries that blend together into one odd sensation that sweeps my brain and heart up in its sound. ”If I fall, you save?” she asks, the fear rippling outwards from her touching as the sweet expression she shares with me, a delight that I can seemingly hear her words rather than approximate from her body language a bright spot in the depths of her worried little eyes.

A sigh, mocking and playful, extends from my lips, a soft smile crinkling the corners of my oceanic eyes. "Don’t fall," is my simple answer, but she knows I won’t let her die; with a new boldness to her step, Skýlos bolts forward and leaps for the opposite shore, clearing nearly five foot before she splashes down in the shallows on the other side and lets forth a yelp as the water swarms her backend and her fore paws scrabble against the pebbles of the bank before she is clear of the stream and shaking away the water that clings to her.

[ OOC: Yeyah mindspeech! <333 Tagging Bellona as we discussed a thread previously between these two, but anyone is welcome! ]

deilós: coward

@[Bellona]

C e a l e s t i s</style>
who knows how deep the heart runs</style>