Peace.
Ashley closed his eyes, drawing the oxygen he needed through the gills in self-inflicted gills slits on the sides of his neck. He pounded against the undercurrent, pushing with the world hoping to shove away the weariness he felt. The restless ginger looked about, finally able to center his thoughts and become one with his whole self. He was at home here, in the deep. His tail was a mottled brown; spots running down his tail as he opened his mouth, gaping in the water, taking it in deep. His front legs he traded for fins, and he wove himself in and out of the rock, looking for undergrowth to feast on. He leads with his head, his auburn colored mane flowing behind him like a flag. He is a foreigner to these depths, and yet so at home here. And as he hits the bedrock and sinks into the silt, his tail fins back up against something with a thud.
His eyes go wide open, and he spins with much more agility than he would have on land—even given the tight space—and sets his gaze on another sea-dwelling creature. The blood in his veins quickens, his tail going a deep crimson to demonstrate his leadership—his dominance. He has no ability to talk to her (his mouth is too busy in taking water and turning it into oxygen to keep his massive body going at this depth), and so his mind speaks to her, and he only hopes she has the ability to speak back. His usual gruffness is forgotten down here, and he is as he used to be as a younger man. Open, approachable. And perhaps…nice? “Are you… like me? From above?”
Ashley closed his eyes, drawing the oxygen he needed through the gills in self-inflicted gills slits on the sides of his neck. He pounded against the undercurrent, pushing with the world hoping to shove away the weariness he felt. The restless ginger looked about, finally able to center his thoughts and become one with his whole self. He was at home here, in the deep. His tail was a mottled brown; spots running down his tail as he opened his mouth, gaping in the water, taking it in deep. His front legs he traded for fins, and he wove himself in and out of the rock, looking for undergrowth to feast on. He leads with his head, his auburn colored mane flowing behind him like a flag. He is a foreigner to these depths, and yet so at home here. And as he hits the bedrock and sinks into the silt, his tail fins back up against something with a thud.
His eyes go wide open, and he spins with much more agility than he would have on land—even given the tight space—and sets his gaze on another sea-dwelling creature. The blood in his veins quickens, his tail going a deep crimson to demonstrate his leadership—his dominance. He has no ability to talk to her (his mouth is too busy in taking water and turning it into oxygen to keep his massive body going at this depth), and so his mind speaks to her, and he only hopes she has the ability to speak back. His usual gruffness is forgotten down here, and he is as he used to be as a younger man. Open, approachable. And perhaps…nice? “Are you… like me? From above?”
ashley
I walked the path, it led me to the end.