[private] any way to distract and sedate, Oceane

[Oceane]

a little white light in a
sea gone black

≋

Over the past few weeks, Oceane has shied away from the thought of navigating the terrain of diplomacy in such pure, inky blackness. Before the sun had disappeared, the worry of leaving Loess undefended in her absence had woven its way into her thoughts ─ a side effect of what their kingdom had endured over the last half decade, most certainly ─ and now, in the Long Night, the concern she feels for her fellow Loessians has only increased. But with the appointing of Fiorina and Tarian in their respective duties, the Southern Queen feels that the opportunity to offer individual support to her residents within the foothills may finally be upon her.

Perhaps a blessing in disguise, the sun’s absence has provided her the perfect excuse to be a homebody, and she finds herself hoping those who call this land home have decided just the same.

It’s this thought that remains at the forefront of her mind as she traverses the shadowed ground in pursuit of the flash of ivory light. The woman who claims its existence is soft-spoken, as if her tone mirrors the delicate glow that radiates from her. Oceane receives the apology with a dismissive flick of her lavender tail and a small shake of her opalescent head, opting instinctively to disregard the near tonelessness of her inflection.

“Startled, no,” she responds warmly and with a small bout of laughter, “It was perhaps the most exciting thing I’ve seen in Loess since the sun left us.” And that’s something she can be pleased about. Better quiet than uproarious, at least for now, while they await the sun to return, or Breach to command her kingdom to attack, or Pangea to strike…

She clears her throat, rending those thoughts from her mind and tossing them aside as best she can, though the anxiety lingers. You are the Queen here, then, the glowing woman is saying in that same monotone voice, prompting Oceane’s attention back to her. She gives a nod of affirmation but otherwise does not answer what had been perceived as a statement rather than a question before registering her newest companion’s name with the twitch of an ear.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you officially, Islas. Your name is familiar ─ perhaps Lepis told me about you?” She bites at the inside of her cheek with uncertainty as she tries to place the woman’s name. Far too much time has come and gone since Lepis’ passing, time that has swept away diminutive memories from their conversations but has done naught to lessen the melancholy she feels each time she remembers the gold and navy woman.

—
@[Islas]
“”

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