[private] a wilderness of water

[Oceane]

a little white light in a
sea gone black

≋

There's something profoundly heavy about grief in the midst of winter. It's draining, both physically and mentally, and it makes for a cold melancholy that never quite goes away. Even when she is not gripped by a wave of anguish at its peak, it's still there. And Oceane, who had been a wanderer for the two years prior to Castile's invitation to Loess, has found herself needing to wander - and so it's time, she supposes, to lean on the shoulder of a friend that she has not seen in far, far too long.

And it's time that she fulfills the promise to visit her friend's tropical island nation. Leaving Beqanna's mainland by air is wretchedly cold at first, but as she nears Ischia the air grows warmer and the thermals wrap Oceane in a warm embrace. Her feathered wings stretch wide as the heat of the tropics seeps into the chill that has resided in her bones for far too long.

She lands upon the sandy shore of Ischia with a loud call towards the verdant jungle before her; though she aches to run straight in and search for Aquaria, she all-too-clearly remembers her encounter with Ivar the last time she'd found herself here. And so she waits in the sun, her amber eyes closed for a time, and revels in the warmth.

@[Aquaria]
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n | r