anyone;

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails Nayl has been biding her time coming to the island. From the mainland she watched as the day went by, the sun replaced by the moon then back again. She watched as the pregnant tides destroyed a path only to ebb and recover it again half a day later. Without wings Nayl is forced to wait and to decipher the currents until they deemed permissible. Often, she would disappear to eat before taking her place on shore again to watch and wait. It's midday when the tide recedes and reveals the hidden sandbars just enough for passage. Moving quickly, Nayl trots along the damp sand with an occasional splash through a small pool of sea water. Her autumn eyes are tunneling on the island miles ahead with its palm trees towering over the beach. Such a secluded land would on one side be desirable, but simultaneously difficult when trying to attract more numbers (unless they keep themselves as elitist flyers and shifters). Grounded, Nayl has no other option than to navigate the sandbars when available, but they come to a gradual end as the water begins to deepen farther out. Wary of the current (and the massive expansive of endless water to her right) she continues forward even as the ground gives way and forces her to swim. Eventually, Nayl arrives. Her body is soaked, her muscles slightly tired from the brief swim fighting the waves. Multiple snorts try to clear the salt water from her nostrils while acclimating herself to the surroundings. This is almost a world of its own, apart from Beqanna. It stands alone, secluded, and she can’t help but wonder who takes refuge in such a place. Looking ahead, she manages to call for someone – anyone – while trying to recover from the unexpected and tiresome venture. Nayl covet and myrina's creation