i need nothing to travel the sea
This form of communication is much different from the language of the Sea, Rivuline decides. Beneath the waves, the turquoise could show her long teeth to scare away someone when she wanted to be left alone or settle near the coral reefs when she wanted companionship. The fish had always enjoyed rubbing the muck off their scales in the long dreads of her mane. For a flickering moment, Rivuline misses those colorful fish before realizing that she hasn’t heard a word of the younger girl’s story.
Something about a pinecone?
What are pinecones?
Rivuline drags her thoughts back to the world of thin air and towering trees to hear Celina’s faux compliment and subsequent introduction. Her amber eyes move to scan the surroundings now called the Meadow. In this winter month, the clearing is bitter and weary; tendrils of angry winds pick up the upper layers of the snow, whipping it across the empty spaces. The edges of the river just behind her feet are frozen and even the dead grass beneath the snow crunches as the turquoise tobiano shifts her weight. The barest hints of a sunset are beginning to appear in the sky with faint shades of pink and peach against the striking blue of the cloudless afternoon sky.
“The Meadow,” she echoes softly. Despite the cold, Rivuline couldn’t deny its beauty. It was striking in comparison to the warm blue-and-green of the ocean. Her slender face turns back toward Catcher and Celina as the horned girl spoke. “I would appreciate the warmth.” Even with her fin pressed against her spine to conserve her body heat, Rivuline finds her muscles shaking. Although Catcher had suggested moving toward the woods, the turquoise turns to head for the treeline immediately following her acceptance of the thought.
Along the way, she answers. “I come from the western ocean.” A pause as she takes a crunching step. The silence is broken by a slight gasp as Rivuline’s foot slips out from beneath her, weight unbalanced from the slick ice that hides beneath the snow. The length of her sailfish fin spreads open in an attempt to rebalance herself and give a clue to her surprise. She recovers with a floating sort of elegance. Another step is taken and her next comment attempts to smooth over the embarrassment that lingers. “Where are you two from?”
@[Celina] @[Catcher]