but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams

To swim freely again, to feel the full extension of his hind legs as he kicked.. again, and again, and again.

He had forgotten the power of his own body, had even let it go to waste—and he was oddly self-aware of it, how the wetness of his coat made it cling to his slightly too lean frame, and what a drab shade of gray it became when flattened to his black skin in such a way. He very nearly felt guilty for being in her presence. With each second she became more and more beautiful—alluring, even.

(But he knows what he knows, about himself, and about the world—)

So he kept his distance, and not only because he wasn't too keen on either of them getting kicked on accident. The cool water rushed pleasantly over his shoulders as they glided across the pond, and upon his head his black-rimmed ears turned to the soft sound of her voice. "There is something special about it - the water - it's mysterious, I know little of what lurks in its darkest depths..." Mysterious? As he paddled along he realized he had never thought of the water as mysterious—in his youth, it had simply spelled 'death'. Cold, black depths of icy water to freeze the blood in your veins, so tight, so tight, until you couldn't breathe anymore. But in the springs and summers, there had been brooks and ponds of clear freshwater, still cold, but not lethally so.

Unlike the rampaging ocean many days from the Heimasburg. It had never been kind to those who fell in. And here? The fogs of the Edge had promptly stolen the label "mysterious" as far as any land went, the ocean below simply hidden from view, and by the shore below it was more.. peaceful and serene than mysterious. And then it was the whole story of the swamp and his hatred of the southern lands and why that ocean was a bad ocean and yeah, he guessed this spot was kind of mysterious because it had the whole flower-thing and the willows and the romantic air going on and—

"No," he replied absently, shoulders and haunches heaving to keep his body afloat as he tried to circle away from her. "Which is strange, seeing as I live—in the lands just north of here. And," his breathing punctuating his speech, "I've got some mixed—memories of this place. Plus—you never know what you'll—run into." He grimaced, not sure what he was doing, but he was aiming to fall in behind her. Playing tag in the water wasn't a very nice idea, but to be honest he didn't know if it was his intention or not. Besides, it was becoming painfully obvious to him that he had neglected himself tremendously over the past months, as he felt a fatigue in his muscles which shouldn't be there—not so soon, anyway. It was the same with the strained thunder of his heart, and the harsh breath coming out of his nostrils on each stroke.

But he wasn't going to give in, not just yet. Nor was he going to stay in too long and accidentally drown himself—except.. that couldn't happen. He'd just go under the surface, wash up the shore, get a little waterlogged, but be fine.

And still was so strange to think of...

[ @Eliaren | got interrupted near the end so I kinda lost my train of thought <_< ]

Mauja

the white queen