12-14-2021, 02:11 AM
"All of us waves are going to be nothing! Isn’t it terrible?"
There is silence between them; moments of peace between friendly words. The elderly male appreciates it more than he could explain, as it’s been long since he had spoken to a friend. She reminds him of Kyra, even though the desert woman was vastly different in color and build and perhaps even more outgoing, as it was always hard to catch her alone - unless she sought one out. Oceane’s regal posture, softened with a kindness to her soul, is a spectacular match however. Perhaps if autumn canopies were more his thing she might have convinced him. Perhaps if Loess wasn’t such a literal dry spot. Ischia though - he smiles a little. ”It sounds very much like my old home, Atollon. Or perhaps the Islandres are more similar, from what I hear. Before then, there was Sverige, a place called Stockholm and a Zoo with a large lake. That’s what it was called anyway. It seemed to me that the world had been devastated before we occupied it…” he shakes his head. ”Originally there was Kalaallit. Much colder, but equally humid.” He reminisces and compares, leaving out whomever had lived with him back then. There is too much history to share on a walk, he has lived too many lifetimes already to update her in one go. And he doesn’t wish to. Doesn’t need to, because the woman has a kindred soul. Every land he has lived in holds a piece of his mind and heart, pieces he doesn’t need to share to acknowledge their existence. She is similar he suspects, and for that he can only be thankful.
They joke of intrusion instead, as they walk from the waterfall to the deeper jungle. There is a rise and a slow change in scenery as they go, until the heat comes at them in waves. It is then that he halts, peering through leaves and vines to the lava streams nearby. Already he pulls the damp that clings to the foliage closer to his body, but now his emerald eyes focus on the winged mare. ”I may be susceptible to fire,” he tells her and nods to his slightly more oily fur. ”Water repellent, though.” he smiles a little and contemplates whether to go on and expose himself - and the extent of his aquatic abilities - or if perhaps they could find another route.
They joke of intrusion instead, as they walk from the waterfall to the deeper jungle. There is a rise and a slow change in scenery as they go, until the heat comes at them in waves. It is then that he halts, peering through leaves and vines to the lava streams nearby. Already he pulls the damp that clings to the foliage closer to his body, but now his emerald eyes focus on the winged mare. ”I may be susceptible to fire,” he tells her and nods to his slightly more oily fur. ”Water repellent, though.” he smiles a little and contemplates whether to go on and expose himself - and the extent of his aquatic abilities - or if perhaps they could find another route.
--ahti
"You are not one wave, you are part of the ocean."
@Oceane