Since entering the sea, he has not returned to the drier parts of Beqanna. He also still has not ventured to Baltia, for he still does not understand what he expects to find. The fallen kingdom acts as a relentless magnet, continuously pulling him toward her, but thus far, he has still managed to cling to the edges of her briny boundaries.
If he is honest with himself though, he is just as hesitant to set foot on land again. He delights in the feel of the cool water slipping over his skin, the way his tentacles move so delicately, and yet so powerfully at the same time. Moreso, he enjoys feeling so connected to his father and brother, both of whom were also aquatically inclined. It’s not that he did not love his mother and sisters, but as they were more Stratosian than Baltian, they simply could not share the same bond as the boys had.
Oh, how fiercely he still misses all of them.
He lazes about in the slow-moving currents, contemplating… well, everything. He doesn’t know what to do next. As he drifts along, the gentle voice of the fairy that had visited him begins to echo in his mind. She had challenged him to try to impact the world he lives in now. He can only assume that she meant Beqanna, since neither Baltia, Stratos, or the Ruins had returned to the world that had birthed them.
That seems to rule out the idea of venturing to Baltia, at least until he figures out how to fulfill the requirements of his quest. But he hasn’t seen many others here in the depths, so he takes that to mean that he must return to land. He sighs quietly to himself and vows that he will not let so much time pass before he returns to the water again.
He reluctantly begins the ascent. It does not escape him as the water’s temperature rises correspondingly, nor that his slitted pupils narrow as the sunlight more easily permeates the darkness. It is not quite a sense of dread that also rises with him, but there is certainly some anxiety that prickles his skin.
Eventually, his head breaks the surface, and his gills quickly adapt to breathing in the oxygen-rich air as he begins propelling himself toward the shore. When the water becomes too shallow to go further, he pauses to gather himself, to close his eyes and focus on returning to his wholly equine form. When the transformation is complete, he opens his eyes and pulls his tall, lanky body into a standing position in what can only be described as an ungainly fashion. He really is far more awkward on land than in the water and he is painfully aware of it as he strides to the shore.
Unsure of himself, he stands there, staring through the stringy, dripping forelock falling over his bright blue eyes.
@Colby tagging you in case you change your mind about who you're sending!