Neither of them have achieved in coaxing the other away from the shore. Both stuff their faces, smiles painted across their faces at how nice it is to take time to themselves away from the aggressive heat of Tallsun.
Sunburns have yet to form across Hobgoblin but are swift to become a worrisome thing. Her own are becoming scars in the time that’s she’s spent letting them heal. Now her days consist of sleeping in the shade, tucked beneath the umbrellas of trees or surrounded by the water in the lake, floating effortlessly as the water encapsules her, the occasional time spent away to tend to her duties as the Sun Physician. Nights are in turn exchanged for trips to the beach so that Hobgoblin can hunt the sharks, attracted by the Dragon’s Throat’s rising from the sea and the bounty of food found in the seagrasses, short times spent with her only son who is growing a lot quicker that she wants him to, and the gathering of herbs in the desert.
For the previous night, they have spent it as said. Hobgoblin lounges atop the warming sands, bloated, groaning over how much food he’s managed to stuff into himself within the dark hours. Sleep taunts him and he is no stranger to it when he takes it.
Sikeax, resting in the palm of the other hand, slips underwater at the first hints of day. Light paints a fine glow over the desert mountains in the distance, graces with borders of the seen world with a pink shawl as it crests into vibrancy. She is a humorous sight to see. Currents encourage her to return to the ceiling of this realm and gasp for air that she doesn’t need, grasping grass in her jaws and chewing contently. Every few minutes, she is paddling back downwards.
With each motion, she pulls herself further out, not minding the dip in the sea and gradual descent towards the wreckage of canyons that became a land bridge which fell to pieces by the Sun God’s wrath and an entire herd’s passion, driven on by a Sultan who wanted to keep them safe, the last reminder that the Dragon’s Throat once belonged to the mainland.
Their crumbled pieces bare no food, and what is there is little and not enough for attention. No life takes notice of her abandonment when she crawls back on land, ushering forth words for her companion to follow her across the bridge.
She doesn’t wish to waste time, trying to run from the Sun when it is in the height of its glory in its kingdom.
He follows her across at a lazy, stumbling gate, occasionally taking a moment to narrow and blink yellow eyes as his legs push themselves along. The flames kiss but do not wound, climbing their limbs and tugging at their tails, getting nothing more than tired looks and a thrashing tail of displeasure from Hobgoblin. Sikeax is quiet, moving only her legs and tail, making empty blinks as she waters her eyes against the dry, salty air, breathing with small, relaxed breaths in perfect rhythm.
A kind of bliss oversees them in this hour. The sand returns beneath her hooves and his paws, flexing claws into the body as he heads for the shoreline line again, seeking cool, damp sand to spread his body over.
A canter collects in her joints and her bones, humming a soft tone of comfort to herself as she looks for no place in particular to guide herself back into the sea. The hunt goes lower than intend, pulling her into what becomes a patrol of the northern border, Hobgoblin now left far behind.
It gifts her with a man, standing in the sea, not completely engulfed but deep enough that she feels some worry for him. Nothing about him fits into her memory. Even if he was part of the Dragon’s Throat, would he have not a key? Or quite possibly it could be the chance that he was new and they had yet to have gifted him the ability to come and go as he pleased, locked by the sea.
“I wouldn’t stand that far in. You know there’s sting rays that shallow, right?” She chuckles, warmed by the luck of her previous night and the food filling her stomach. Down shore, Hobgoblin pushes the sound of his snores into the music of the sea.
Waves roll up against her when she shuffles through the grasses to meet him, swinging her head low once to shove more grass into her mouth, never once taking the time to accept that in the drought of Tallsun, plagued by the sudden, unforeseen violence of sea-thrown storms bordering hurricanes, that she had been this needy for food.
“Do you need me to get you in? I have a key.” The impression that he was a newcomer, sworn into the ranks with the growing amount of new faces without her knowledge, doesn’t take its leave easily.

OOC: Yay! Welcome to you and Tilney to the DT! <3
Hobgoblin is in his serval form when crossing the bridge but upon making it to Tilney's side turns into his leopard seal form.

"If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?"

Sikeax;

i'm missing the beauty in your soul