11-28-2017, 03:54 PM
She is gone. That's what they've been saying all day. Circinae, Keeper of Ischia, the Wolf of the Sea. She is nowhere to be found, and she has left no clues as to where she might have gone. It has only been a few short months since he had arrived, but outside of her wild daughter, Circinae was the first he met on the island he now called home. He too felt her loss on the wind blowing in from the sea.
Hod's blindness had become less of a issue since being here. It had not changed, per say, but familiarity with the land made it hinder him less. He did not need to see to be able to appreciate the beauty of Ischia. It was the joyful chatter of parrots that began each day. It was the salt breezes that reached every corner. It was in the rich earth and pure water that produced such food as he had never experienced before.
And what he loved above all else about the island was the strange plankton that illuminated the beaches every evening. Hod did not see nothing, exactly. His world was simply restricted to light and shadows, blurs of grey in between. He had grown up hating the night, because that was when he truly saw nothing. This was why Ischia had fully won his heart. The beaches had become his favorite place to spend his nights. He would watch the band of phosphorus plankton that rode the waves etch itself in never-ending patterns for hours.
This was where he found himself that night. The island in mourning, he took himself to her shores, musing. The now familiar glow greeted him, comforting in its steadiness, like the island's own heartbeat. He followed it, wanting to reach the point where he knew stoney cliffs would form a sheltered cove. He did not make it that far. Instead, his attention was caught by a foreign light, different from his beloved water's glow. It was not black, or white or grey. Was this... A color? He stood still, fixated on the point of soft, verdant light. It was small, only about the size of a hoof. He did not have a name for how it shone, only that it was beautiful and vibrant like nothing he had ever encountered before. Perhaps the sea had given him a gift.
He stepped closer, head dipped in low reverence, hoping he could catch a better idea of what lay in the damp sand. The grey stallion inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of brine and seaweed. The scent of Ischia. Cautiously, carefully, he brushed the mysterious item with the very tip of his pale nose, feeling its ridges and glassy smoothness. It was like a shell, yet unlike any other shell he had come across. Despite the balmy evening air, Hod shivered. Something strange was going on here.
Hod's blindness had become less of a issue since being here. It had not changed, per say, but familiarity with the land made it hinder him less. He did not need to see to be able to appreciate the beauty of Ischia. It was the joyful chatter of parrots that began each day. It was the salt breezes that reached every corner. It was in the rich earth and pure water that produced such food as he had never experienced before.
And what he loved above all else about the island was the strange plankton that illuminated the beaches every evening. Hod did not see nothing, exactly. His world was simply restricted to light and shadows, blurs of grey in between. He had grown up hating the night, because that was when he truly saw nothing. This was why Ischia had fully won his heart. The beaches had become his favorite place to spend his nights. He would watch the band of phosphorus plankton that rode the waves etch itself in never-ending patterns for hours.
This was where he found himself that night. The island in mourning, he took himself to her shores, musing. The now familiar glow greeted him, comforting in its steadiness, like the island's own heartbeat. He followed it, wanting to reach the point where he knew stoney cliffs would form a sheltered cove. He did not make it that far. Instead, his attention was caught by a foreign light, different from his beloved water's glow. It was not black, or white or grey. Was this... A color? He stood still, fixated on the point of soft, verdant light. It was small, only about the size of a hoof. He did not have a name for how it shone, only that it was beautiful and vibrant like nothing he had ever encountered before. Perhaps the sea had given him a gift.
He stepped closer, head dipped in low reverence, hoping he could catch a better idea of what lay in the damp sand. The grey stallion inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of brine and seaweed. The scent of Ischia. Cautiously, carefully, he brushed the mysterious item with the very tip of his pale nose, feeling its ridges and glassy smoothness. It was like a shell, yet unlike any other shell he had come across. Despite the balmy evening air, Hod shivered. Something strange was going on here.