It’s been months since Adrius’ first venture into Beqanna. The cold press of his soaked mane against his slick scales is what reminds him of land. Sometimes swimming aimlessly to avoid other Baltians isn’t enough (most times it isn’t enough), so his already frayed mind frays even further.
Today, the seams holding his thoughts together burst open with violent force. All he can think about is the dark woman that met him upon the shore, the lack of answers he received, and all the questions he didn’t get to ask. Adrius hardly makes a show of holding himself together. He allows the thoughts and remnants of past sensations overwhelm him until the only direction he can bear is directly toward the surface.
Last Adrius went under was a few days ago, at a particularly quiet estuary. He studied the luscious green grass and rushing fish while he swam upstream. Day and night he spent underwater, only stopping to feed himself and rest. He moved as if being chased, as if he desperately needed to widen the space between himself and all of Baltia.
Now, Adrius surfaces, rejecting all thought of the past he’s running away from. He’ll go back, right? That’s what he always tells himself. All of this is supremely temporary. In a few days, he’ll have a plan to restore his family’s name.
All will be well.
Later.
What Adrius first sees when he peeks above the water is cattails. Rows upon rows of cattails only occasionally broken up by well-worn trails crafted by creatures in need of a drink. Truthfully, he would have hardly noticed Stargaze had the color of her coat not stood out so starkly amongst the beige foliage.
Adrius stares for what might be an inappropriate amount of time before he quietly calls over the gently rolling water, “Hello.”