[open] buried it where bones are buried

[Sabal]

can’t stop staring at those ocean eyes.  Sabal isn’t a fan of the forest. It’s too confining – too far from the water for her to ever really be comfortable. She tries to stay near enough to the river to hear the comforting rush of water over the rocks, but soon the river is nothing but a whisper.  The dark of night is almost a comfort now – the return of the light had both been a relief and had been…abrasive. And this coming from the kelpie who loved nothing more than baking herself on the shore of the lake had certainly come as a surprise. So she’d immediately retreated to the comfort of the water until dusk had come.  And then she set out towards the mountain in an attempt to find the answers that had escaped her since she had fallen.   But there was nothing to be found, so she continued downriver, eventually emerging into the forest – abandoning the comfort of the water as the familiar darkness of night unfolded across Beqanna. She wandered, not knowing what she was looking for.  Until she saw a familiar figure.  She immediately narrowed her gaze upon him – for he too had obviously been changed by the mountain but not in the way that she had.   “You were there, right? At the mountain. In the other group,”  The braver group, or maybe just the more foolish. The group she’d have gladly stood with if she hadn’t been so single-minded in bringing back the goddamn sun. Regardless, her group had failed. And that failure had shattered her last goddamn nerve so she’d spent the last few days (Or weeks?  Who the hell knew) moping at the bottom of Hyaline’s lake.  Until restlessness (and one very-annoying and able to shift again best friend) spurned her to the surface. So here she was – wandering around on rarely used legs – still glowing faintly even though she had come back…different. Some of the more ghost-like qualities had faded, but the intangibility remained.  And it did not suit her.  But it sounded pathetic admitting out loud she missed being touched when most of Beqanna had much bigger issues to contend with.   “Did you do it?” she asks, plainly.  She’s always been direct – but this was forward even for her.  Perhaps he doesn’t want to talk about it. But honestly, Sabal doesn’t care. She wants to know what the hell happened after she fell from the mountain.  Call her what you would, but she didn’t mind being called nosy – not now.  (Not ever, honestly.) Obviously someone did it, because the darkness had finally abated.  He was the first person she’d seen that she recognized from that first night who’d gone with the others.  There were probably better ways to go about getting this information – polite introductions and all that and maybe some degree of buttering up considering that the experience had been mildly traumatic for her, she didn’t even really take time to consider it could have been 10 times worse for him.  If he didn’t want to talk, fine. But she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t ask. s a b a l .

manip by squirt