I'll be almost to the ocean when you open your eyes
Her mouth twists wryly at the invitation, wishing she could take it. The wrongness of the unbound ocean nagged at her with gut wrenching persistence. It was impossible to ignore, something she should have taken to heart when first the waters had betrayed her. She was too stubborn though. It had made more sense to suffer a while and return home with answers, than to sit at home and wonder.
She would have chosen differently had she known that she would find no answers. That the waters, or what hid within them, would not let her return to the shores of home.
Now though she simply shook her head in an exhausted way, knowing only that another long swim waited for her. "I appreciate the offer. In better days I'd take you up on it. But I'm feeling guilty enough for having left at all, you know? I'm sure they don't need me nearly as much as I think they do, but I won't believe it until I'm there again." The anxiety that never seemed far from the surface anymore brushed against her like little waves at her heels.
What if, it whispered. What if the monsters kill everyone while you're gone, and you return to an empty island? What if the darkness never lifts, and the island dies anyway? What more could you do, what else could you try? Will it matter, if there's no one left to blame you in the end?
Her throat tightened, thoughts reeling unkindly as she stood rooted to the sand. Okay. That was the best that could be said of any of them, wasn't it. They were okay, surviving, doing their best. How long was okay allowed to be okay, before it wasn't? The seamare nodded, unsure of what she was agreeing to. The concept of "okay", maybe.
"We have similar trick, though it only works on Ischia," she commented, watching as the bright birds went about their lives. Were they living things? They certainly behaved like it, even if she'd never heard of such creatures before. Her spheres of blue algae-light were a poorer light source, but were certainly better than nothing at all.
A heartbeat or two passed while Wishbone's stumbling last sentence hung like a physical thing between them. This did not seem to be the moment for saying she was sorry for the dark mare's loss, so she settled instead on "Lost things are meant to be found, I imagine. Can't be that different with lost brothers." If they wanted to be found, that was. Aquaria had personal experience with lost brothers that preferred things that way, but it also didn't seem to be the right moment to go into that.
She glanced over her shoulder at the water that was more heard than seen. Water that beckoned and threatened. "Thank you, for telling me what you know. I hope your brother doesn't keep you waiting long." She murmured, knowing if she didn't leave soon get courage would flag. Not knowing that she would be dragging herself back up this same shore in a matter of hours, bloody and weak. It was always easier to do what needed to be done when the end result was uncertain.
Aquaria
@[Wishbone]