She’s … around. Just not where everyone could see her. Adria had been spending her time underwater for the cold season, taking refuge in the serenity and peace of the Great Lake. Hyaline’s crown jewel was deeper than most could imagine, and it held handfuls of sunken caves that wove underground towards other lands. Their secrets were enough to keep the young Nereid occupied and happy, but lately that had begun to wear off. There were only so many caves, and only so many secrets.
Sighing in a cascade of pearlescent bubbles, the seamare drifted gracefully up to the surface and burst through with an extravagant mist of water, throwing her refined head backwards to fan out the long strands of her overgrown mane. Droplets flew from her and landed like glimmering crystals, raining down where they belonged and leaving nothing behind to show they had ever existed in the first place. She blinked softly and took her first breath of air in weeks, turning around at the familiar tune of her name on another’s tongue.
On the shoreline stood a dark stallion, watching her. He was framed in a rich green color, one that made his legs stand out and drew attention to his equally unruly mane and tail. From his forehead two great horns spiraled up, sturdy and dangerous-looking. “Clayton!” Her voice rang out like bells, “Repons lan se wi it’s me!” Yes of course!
Together the two drifted nearer to one another, Adria swimming prettily out from the water and Clayton trudging down the shore to meet her. They met on the land where the Nereid shivered from exposure to the cold, positively dripping. “How good to see you! How good you look! Ah, sezon fredi, this weather is terrible. I was not made to be cold so much!” She laughs.
For some reason she cannot fathom, her bright eyes linger over his face. Had he been this attractive when they last met? His eyes so golden, the shape of his cheeks so proud and handsome? She can’t be sure, so she blinks again and tries to push the unwelcome thoughts away. Her lips reach out to ghost across his nose and then, they reach for a lock of his hair tucked behind his wine-colored ears. “I have not seen you for a while. Talk, please. Fill my world with sound and speak of what you’ve been doing.”
upon my journey i must go, to where the river flows
Adria
@[Clayton]