SWP :: Once upon a wave

[OPEN] SWP :: Once upon a wave :: (Intro)

Tangere Posts: 159

Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5

Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE

Phrixus :: White Raven :: None Psilo

#61

10-10-2016, 06:16 PM (This post was last modified: 10-10-2016, 07:45 PM by Tangere.)

“how long is forever?” asked alice.
“sometimes just one second.” said the white rabbit.
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The seaside is so beautiful this time of year. Chilly, windy – the only sound is usually crashing waves and foam sifting over beach sand. Quite tranquil, actually, and a drastic turn from her usual permafrost world. Her eyes find it easy to blur and drift, her thoughts doing the same, tumbling like waves and peacefully dispersing. It is easy to mediate to the breaking crests of turquoise waves.

For a while they're stuck in the flats, why she was there, she doesn't really know – just wandering, trying to hunt down herbs and guests for the Basin festivities. No luck in the world of mirrored clouds and rippling shallow pools. Phrixus finds it easy enough to guide her out of the psychedelic knot of a place that is Halcyon Flats.

“To the waves please, to the Isles, we never go there much anymore.” Her voice floats into his mind with no evidence outside of their bodies. Her cropped tail slashes and she picks herself up into a canter, her body unshackled by the weariness of the Flats (it's confusing nature is something she finds tiring for her mind) and thus she kicks her heels in a sudden rush of liberation. She can smell the salt, her cloven feet can feel the softening soil sinking under her. The long tips of still green sea-grass bend and shudder in the gentle breeze blowing off the coast. The isles can be seen as the pair soar closer and closer, one by air and one on foot, over the small pebble-pocked hill and down to the wetted sands below.

“Stuff in the water maybe?” Her anxiety trickles up to her airborne companion, she watches him as his blue eyes carefully picks the landscape apart. He's huge for a raven, not of typical size, more like that of an eagle. His broad wings only need to push once or twice, keeping his heavy-ish body afloat fairly effortlessly in a smooth gliding motion only a few feet above Tangere's glossy twisted horn. He takes her hint and flaps a bit harder to gain a few more feet and few more feet per second. The pale bird makes wide circles around where the unicorn will be entering the water. It's oddly calm today, he thinks to himself; the thought travels back to Tangere as well. “Too calm?” Her inner voice chirps back to him.

“Maybe..” the bird's thoughts conveyed themselves back to the caverns of her own mind with a bit of uncertainty lacing it. Between them something crackles, like sand falling into sand, steadily and static it sticks on the airwaves for half of a second and in that moment both parties know the cause of the irregular phenomena.

There is magic here, somewhere here.

Tangere dives for the water with no restraint. Her winter fur isn't quite in full 'bloom' but it's puffier than normal, for her sure, and sucks in the salt water like a sponge. The cold bites at her muscles, penetrating her first layer of fur and teasing at her second, threatening to touch her skin. There's hardly any turbulence as she breaks into a easy swim, paddling with a very generous current (which she's never witnessed here before). With a worried croak her bird dives down to her, circling around her horn and then just calmly falling back to follow behind as her feet finally find rock and sand below. There are so many gathered already, gathered just beyond where she washes up, on another part of the beach. “OH! Go look, go look, I'm right behind you!” She gives him a silent request and dives into a canter across the sand. He takes his cue then and accelerates toward the group; he makes his typical circular formations around them from a respectful height, the sea-creature's image relaying back to the piebald unicorn while she finds a spot on the edge of all the others. She doesn't look for familiar faces, though there are sure to be many (so many here!), but just skirts respectfully on the outside of the massive group, weaving to stand in the front. She tries her best not to be rude which causes her to trot through the fingers of water reaching out from the vast sea beside them. Everyone speaks up but she does not, she only looks for eyes and a mouth among the squiggling debris – it's even weirder up close than from the vague image transmitted from her companion's thoughts. Her pink lip curls with mystery while she leans in, lurching somewhat, mouth slightly unhinged with awe. The jolt of Phrixus' claws grabbing at her soggy withers awakens her from her gawking sort of pose. Now they both stare, heads tilted [opposite] to the side with curiosity, and a hint of suspicion.

“”