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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    A new wave; Rivuline
    #1
    Nilam
    She’s bored.

    She found her father once, because she was bored - swam across the sea until she picked up the familiar yet unfamiliar scent. Have you killed anyone yet? And so, she had. No hesitations with the male that time, no. She’d just learned that killing males was easier on her mind, and that he’d made a pretty good meal (there’s no use in killing without making use of the leftovers).

    But by now, Ischians knew to stay out of the water, and the kelpie princess never even found Loire lurking near it - perhaps her little hypnosis trick had worked too well - and so she ventured out further and farther, exploring every shore in Beqanna silently and deadly. Some small animals’ bones could be found on the shores she had visited, sometimes a larger predator’s leftovers as well. She wasn’t very picky when she got hungry, and her almost-horse shape usually lulled the other animals in quickly enough.

    The forest at first does not seem promising to further investigate - but she picks up a sea-scent, something similar to her, and she simply follows her gut. She’s too young still to think about the possible threat - she is the ultimate sea predator, father had said so - and soon finds herself propelled towards the shoreline where the scent (taste) of the other is strongest.

    She wonders briefly is they’re related to her father as well when she nears the shore and exits the water, but quickly forgets it when she takes in the sight of the mist banks between the trees. ”Not bad,” she mumbles to herself. This will keep her damp enough not to dry out for sure.
    there is no new wave
    only the sea


    @[Rivuline]
    Reply
    #2

    i need nothing to travel the sea

    Like the ebb-and-flow of the tides, Rivuline dances between savagery and domestication.

    She had raised herself in the territory of predatory sharks and poisonous fish. As she got older, she often worked with a slick hunter to catch prey they could both feast on, and the surface of the ocean would color itself a deep shade of red while the floor of the ocean would be sprinkled with unwanted pieces of bone. The underwater world could be a place full of cunning and sharpness, and Rivuline had quickly learned how to survive with her own sort of predatory tendencies.

    With her first steps onto land, Rivuline had entered an entirely different world. She is still learning their differences, though it is mostly through scenting the borders where she does and observing meetings through the underbrush of the forest. She has remained in the background, unsure of their regal ways. On some days, she craves their tameness. Rivuline wonders how it would feel to allow control to permeate her decisions. On other days, she rebels the thought of it so passionately that the beachfront is scattered with half-eaten bodies and she craves sinking her teeth into the throat of anyone who dares getting close to her.

    The seafoam tobiano feels loose on the day scales-and-salt drifts into her nostrils. The morning sunlight has soaked into her shoulders, leaving her with a peaceful feeling she connects with a pleasant nap drifting between lazy undercurrents. Rivuline gracefully moves away from her patch of sun in a forest clearing to head closer to the scent. For all her wilderness, the stark contrast of her pale blues and greens against the deeper shades of the forest are a sight to see.

    She waits on the edge of the treeline, allowing the cool mist to curl around her shoulders and across her cheeks. The stranger is already upon the shore, decorated with colors and attributes that speak of her lineage and homeland. Every muscle in Rivuline’s body stands at attention; she is as still as a statue aside from the singular, harsh flick of her tail against her mud-splashed heels.

    When she finally breaks away from the trees to move down the bank, there is a feral glint in her eyes. “Who are you?” The peacefulness of Rivuline’s morning is broken by this intruder swimming right onto her shore. As she comes to a halt, the seafoam mare’s ears lace into the thick dreads of her multicolored mane. “Why are you here?”

    Rivuline


    @[Nilam]
    Reply
    #3
    Nilam
    She is the ultimate sea predator, highest in the food chain, ruler of the ocean (when father isn’t around to contradict her by being stronger and simply being her sire). She never encountered a threat to her existence; in her naivety, she cannot be bested by anyone that is not father.

    But this mare seems to be dangerous. Nilam never experienced danger like that before, and instead of being fearful, she is intrigued. The young kelpie princess moves towards that mare, a finned one, one that is like her, and older - mature. Better.

    ”I’m Nilam. But that’s probably not what you wanted to know,” she guesses wildly. Her gold and sapphire colouring, together with her obvious kelpie features, should speak for themselves. If by now the mare hadn’t caught on, it wasn’t Nilam’s fault. ”I go where the streams take me.” she says it so casually, it could be haughty; so haughtily it could be casually. It never crossed her mind that she might not be welcome anywhere, that other predators wanted to claim certain hunting grounds, that she wasn’t the very top of the food chain. Even if she’s close, she’s just not a goddess, as much as she wants to be.
    there is no new wave
    only the sea


    @[Rivuline]
    Reply




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