-Adria-
The love of a dangerous seaborn storm comes from a life lived on Ischia. Every turn of the year they’d appear, like old friends to knock on the door and keep you company, and in fact one of Adria’s earliest memories is of running behind her mother to the safety of these caves. She hardly feared them anymore. Was it strange that she admired them, actually? Emulated the violent nature of the weather and how it brought growth and tranquility afterwards?
Ah, her personal thoughts are for another time. Right now she and Seale have come to rest for a moment in the cool, damp dark of a slender passageway. The walls of the cavern are softly drip, dripping. They slant in a barely noticeable arc until they meet one another to form a pointed sort of roof, too black for Adria’s eyes to see. Perhaps bats roosted there.
“Hmm. My mother was more or less like yours.” Adria recounts as the two mares walk further. The echoing clatter of their eight hooves combined make a nice rhythm. “Her mother, my grandmother, ruled this place when it was still a kingdom. And then one day she disappeared. I think closing herself off from others was my dam’s method of protecting herself from ever feeling that kind of pain again.”
Thoughtful, Adria led them one way and then the path curved another. For a few moments more the females walked in pleasant silence, coming upon the entranceway to the hidden beach rather suddenly.
Their arched passage was now a doorway, open wide to reveal a slim crescent of white beach that sloped gracefully into an impossibly aqua-tinted pool of water. Stalagmite crystals grew up from the bottom but only pierced the surface at the opposite edge, where no other beach could be found. The source of light, surprisingly, came from above. This old, dormant volcano still had an airy chimney that let dim rays of sun filter down and reflect off the pools surface, like some earthy skylight.
“I always found this place so peaceful. Almost a shrine.” The seamare told her guest whimsically. Adria’s honey-gold eyes flicked towards the waters edge, where Ionia could be found resting. She was about to ask the girl where her brother was when two large, shadowy flickers of movement darted between the submerged crystal growths. Luath was in the water. Of course.
“My intentions for Ischia are to make this island a safe haven for mares. I want this place to be the picture of relaxation; a veritable garden of eden for visitors and members alike. If successful, Ischia would boast a few females who would… entertain any male counterpart they chose.” Here she laughed in the back of her throat, a hint of mischief glinting in her gaze, “But of course this wouldn’t be expected of all my ladies-in-waiting. The sole idea is to not encourage stallions to make this place their permanent home.”
There. As plainly put as she could manage, ribboned with an elegant smile afterwards, Adria finishes her explanation and calmly waits to hear if Seale will have further questions or objections.
Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me
@[Seale]