The smell of brine, the cry of gulls, the restless winds – divine. Nothing could replace the turbulent air and spitting sea. It was perfect. The Riptide felt alive here in the harsh climate, warm, despite the breeze. There was a principal Ru wanted to follow, a way of life she set on pursuing – even if it meant she would fend for herself in the wilds. It made sense to her, it challenged her, and she’d never felt this whole since.
 
At first it almost seemed unbearable, to live on when loved ones would never return. That security blanket had left a long, long time ago – life times ago. And like the ocean, she could change on a dime – rejoicing the possibilities of said freedom. Or suffering from the nights that would never end. It was the silence, and the ghosts of those who nurtured and soothed the little one. Haunted by their faces, the stars that shined brightly and bled with yearning. Why hadn’t she joined them, too?
 
Why must the living keep on living?
 
Questions filled her head, unanswered, burning questions that eventually soothed as she fell asleep. Come morning, she could take respite in the sun – and think nothing more of death and plain uncertainty. She just was. Alive, breathing, on the quest to self-sufficiency and discovery – of all things, of everyone and everything. Our heroine would find a way.
 
Or at least, make do with what she had.

~
 
Today was one of those lazy days. After making her descent to the Riptide Isles – a rocky, turbulent landing – she explored the lands. Since there are several islands to choose from – for our heroine required a base of operations – she filled her senses with as much as she could. Besides the ocean air, the cracked and departed mountain pieces were full and rich of green forests. There was humid air in its depths, the subtle hint of fruit that hit her nostrils, with the obscure mixture of other equine – or perhaps predators, unknown.
 
She followed the cliff edge of this particular island, where the wind was the harshest, and the drop – sheer and unpredictable. Ru took enough caution to respect the boundaries of the cliff. Yet, it was worth the view to tempt the edges, to crawl towards the sharp height, and feel as one’s heart spike and breath hitch – caught and lost with each gust. Sometimes the air left you entirely, stolen and punched out from one’s nostrils. Familiar with the sensation – especially during high dives – Ru felt nothing of it.
 
The girl merely offered a small smile, and settled herself down. Tucked a fore leg underneath her, while the other dangled from the edge.
 
White, porcelain peachy feathers along her neck fanned out. It was lovely to have the wind graze through them. She closed her eyes, and angled her neck along the stream – the currents pulsing through them. It felt like someone was actually nuzzling along the spine of her neck.
 
Comfort was its association. Remnants of security, the need for physical contact. 
 
This could be paradise.
 
This could be her little rock in the ocean.
 
Home.