well someday soon when the spring brings the sun
i'll sleep, i'll finally
feel better when the winter's gone

Hobgoblin is the one who notices it.
Sikeax is full of silence, her portion of their shared world empty, still, quiet but humming the softness of her heartbeat to keep the darkness away. It overwhelms him, and that truly is something to say, for both of their nostrils have learned to ignore the stench of sea salt. He thinks it’s her first, looking down into the faint glow in the belly of the pond where she rests suspended, the lines of her face unmoving, illuminated by her light and the wisping of her hair like creeping shadows as the water pushes it around. The moon does little to bring her out more.
She is too calm to be awake, and there is a tinge of guilt in his anxiety. It is not often that he’s going to see her like this. She’s going to run from it until either he or exhaustion brings her back in, and the feeling of her without anything to sour it is next to bliss.
But he needs to. His skin is crawling(not in the good way) and doesn’t feel the way its supposed to. He pops, does it one more time to get his skin settled back in the way he had it beforehand, and slithers out of the tree to the water’s edge.
One more time, and the water hits him like its arms have been open for a million years.
She is a surprisingly heavy sleeper, but that is not to say that its difficult to wake her. He takes the water around her and pulls it, yanking until air blossoms into the hole surrounding her skull.
Eyelids split wide like canyons opening up beneath the pressure of the ocean. Coughing rattles her rib cage and each breath sends her reeling.
WHY? screams into the quiet before the entire fucking universe erupts inside of both them.
Anxiety slams an open-palmed hand against her sternum. Fear falls like a thick rain over him. It weighs him down and pushes him into the ground til he feels as if he cannot any more, sprinting for the exit.
Is everything okay? stops him before he can get his hand on the door. He’s got to stop and think if what was bothering him is worth it now that Sikeax is awake, if he was worrying for nothing. Guilt hangs in the back of the room for a bit longer.
“Sea smell.” Hate, annoyance, disappointment, the beginning of anger. Please, let this be something worth it. He’s not going to know the end of it til she falls asleep again.
Is this your way of telling me I stink? You could have waited until I was awake.
“No. Sea smell everywhere. You name hear. Worry.”
Huh?
It changes her off-guard as much as she can imagine it did him, but yea, now that she actually puts effort into paying attention to her surroundings, the fact that it’s still nighttime, the scent of the sea devouring her senses when she takes one long, relaxed breath in, the soft cry of her name when she really listens.
Her skin crawls hard enough for him to let go, and the water comes rushing back in like a wave.
She leaves coughing, wheezing because one go of that is enough for the next few hours. Hobgoblin is standing on the shore, looking at her like she is stupid, empty eye sockets without blinking ability just making her feel dumb.
“You know it wouldn’t have hurt to have waited.
More empty stares. Any bliss that resided in her mere moments ago is now lost, and Hobgoblin feels the regret of that decision, but her name is still in his ears and definitely her’s, and he cannot contain the need to know any longer.
“Hurry up.”
She has to because his legs are throwing him out there, taking him away already.
He gets there before her with enough time to pound a few images of it into her eyes, to blow her hatefulness up with sheer awe and impatience, and just for the cherry on top, runs into the ocean without her.
There isn’t anything for her to be able to say to him. He has no respect for her rules, and as she hesitates on the beach, watching through his eyes, she feels ashamed. Here is something rare, something calling her, all left to waste simply because of a fear.
And of what? If there isn’t an exact thing to fear, then what is there to? Not to mention there is Hobgoblin, a shield and a sword, just for her in the darkness.
One long breath before giving in.

OOC: squealing
Hobgoblin goes into the water in his leopard seal form. I wasn't exactly sure if Sikeax was supposed to go into the tunnel or the actual water so I left vague. The RE writer is more than welcome to jump either way depending on which one it was supposed to be.

"Talk."

well someday soon when the spring brings the sun
i'll sleep, i'll finally
feel better when the winter's gone

The water is nearly frightening. She has never been in it during the night with Hobgoblin so alive, so heavily fueled by the lust of control and power that now that it is happening, her heart has climbed steadily into her throat and firmly lodged itself there. The panic it generates makes it hard to breathe.
Hobgoblin, making his way into deeper waters and rubbing the sea grasses against the underside of his slender body, begins to sing.
“Fish sing. Hobgoblin join.”
He doesn’t have the joy of watching the confusion run across her face as the waves move up her legs, staining her dark just above the knees. Her brows are knots, frown laugh worthy, and the jerk of her skull into an off-tilt enough to top it off.
“You are an idiot to think that fish-” And it happens to be that Sikeax thinks of herself as an idiot that she is openly talking to Hobgoblin when he is too far for her to hear, but the last season has been spent with such closeness that now that he is gone, there is more of a tug to the sea. His song fills up her ears with the ocean and he sends her an exuberant image of the fish coming in to meet him.
Happiness beams from him like the warmth from the Sun. Fear glows from her like a cold Frostfall’s wind.
Fish don’t sing.
“These do.”
Spite rings in his voice. Anger bubbles from her in response, the exact same kind that comes when her children(Zhu, actually. Just Zhu) choose to deliberately disobey. A smile tucks its way across his lips with the coaxing of glee because she's sighing again, eyes rolling, shoulders sinking into her as the short debate on whether or not to believe him and make a fool of herself begins.
She will. She always does. He never even doubts it once.
It is nearly painful with how slow she enters, taking baby steps as the foam reaches its way up her until it takes a hesitant grip on the ridges of her shoulder blades and pulls down, one last heavy breath on her lungs before the water comes crashing in.
Hobgoblin is there to greet her, stagnant as the fish around him pulse and flutter about him like butterflies in wildflowers. A song hums in her ears.
Surprise blossoms effortlessly as they come to greet her and she gives him a look of questioning. The answer is his amusement. It glows in the faint lines of his smooth face in the light of their company, purrs in his throat as he picks up where he left off in his concert.
"Not wrong."
They come close enough to touch but her body is full of worry, shying away as their light rolls across her dampness and dyes her a new shade. "I'm sorry" whispers from her soft lips in the aftermath.
Her brother's are the first to go, darting into the deep where Hobgoblin wastes no time in reminding her of sharks, her eyes desperately searching for the dark masses in the faintest of lights, lazily pushing through the waters in an endless hunt. Hunger isn't filling up her stomach, and neither is Hobgoblin's.
Fear sheds tears in the shadow of death as it has no shield to protect itself with and no blade to cut the darkness.
Her own go, and she nearly aches in the agony of watching them go.
Should we follow? Spoken words are spared in the anxiety that brews at accidentally insulting those that seem to have worked so hard to draw her out here.
In the distance, Hobgoblin takes one look at her, another in the direction that the fish have gone, and without a care for how Sikeax is going to feel, so heavily caught up in his own curiosity, shoots off with them.
Horror arrives in the form of a chest-slamming gasp, reeling for air that isn't there but at the same time is.
"Hobgoblin, wait!"
It's naive of her to expect him to, so she is left to peddle as hard as her legs can manage, searching him out in the dark.

"Talk."

well someday soon when the spring brings the sun
i'll sleep, i'll finally
feel better when the winter's gone

As the water dares to surround her again, letting her bask in the late night warmth of salt wave, the quiet sigh of waves rising up to meet the world in her ears, her body slackens. A sweet breath of air runs through her lungs, followed by the temptation to call herself insane for doing this.
Somewhere in the distant, Hobgoblin laughs, his song only growing louder as he pushes the limits of their company, darting about and twirling, slowing down if the fish pursue and loss pace, clearly enjoying this so much more than his bonded. Happiness flutters around him like a swarm of butterflies, or more correct for the situation, fish.
“Like fish.”
Why is that?
Her legs push on, clinging to the encouragement of their company. A momentary halt is spent up in Hobgoblin’s motions, pausing to let his long body to hover, cutting off the sound of his song in the process, and during the time that her eyes linger upon him, his head shoved firmly into her own as he knows the attention is centered on him, she thinks that he doesn’t look as bad as he really is, that someone might think of him now as an unique sea creature, ominous yet captivating in the glimpses of his presence. It graces an approving smile over his lips, but she didn’t mean it that way.
Either way, he didn’t catch it. His mind and body are quick to find themselves returning to the fish, Sikeax’s presence having finally caught up. He darts away with them without even a word. It’s not like he has the time to think of why he likes something when there is simplicity in just knowing that he does.
She finds at the end of the world, the end of their world at least, jaws agape with excitement and anticipation as the minnows bring her to a chest. It runs into a raging wildfire as Hobgoblin watches them make a flurry in attempting to open, the excitement in the water encouraging him to join in.
One way or around, Sikeax watches him push into the chest with his mass and lose interest upon learning that he cannot free it either, darting back behind her to watch over her shoulder.
“Hurry. Want see.”
A mental groan that he doesn’t give a flying fuck about, pressing the length of his skull into her back and pressing down and forwards, harsh encouragement to do it already.
What do you think is it?
“No care. Open. Open!”
Hmph.
Discomfort rides her features in the frown of a partial snarl, aimed at her companion as her peddling leads her to press her hooves into the soft sand, searching for a foothold. The tip of her horn takes some time to discover the crevice between the lid and body of the body, but nonetheless arrives.
If this ends up being bad, it’s your fault.
Hobgoblin snorts bubbles in her ears as the lid pries open, just because he can. “K.”

OOC: it's fine! nothing to worry about <3

"Talk."