Below Zero
my frost philosophy will put no curse on me
The entirety of this world felt foreign to her, but that had been her general reaction since coming to shore. Everything seemed so . . . bright, but not in the rainbow jeweled tones she was used to from beneath the sea – and the flowers hardly made a comparative cut. Green seemed to be everywhere here though, in these lands ruled by those of the Dusk Court. When she’d first ventured ashore, she hadn’t been certain about all the Court business – not so used to the segregation. But the more time that she’d spent in Novus, the more she became aware that belonging to the Court – er, rather a Court – was the norm. And there was no way she’d be accused of having a yellow dorsal, nope she wasn’t a scaredy fish – if fitting in meant being part of a Court, she had made it her business to find one. She’d done her digging, her searching into which court represented, what each held value in . . . that research had brought her here . . . to the Dusk Court.
She continued to venture further into the lands of the Susurro Fields, staring out across the green carpet; if she pretended hard enough, she could almost imagine that it was a carpet of seagrass beneath the aqua waves – rather than a carpet of . . . regular grass beneath the blue sky. She brushed a hoof lightly through the grass, resisting the urge to make a face. Everything was so . . . dry here. As if to answer her distaste, the water vapors that steamed off of her spine, and around each dainty hoof shifted in temperature, dusting her pelt in a coolness as the vapors descended in the air. The simple touch of the cool water vapors helped ease her mind as the sapphire and ivory maiden stood, at distinct odds with the land around her.
Okay, maybe odd downplayed it a touch. While the world around her was full of earthen life – dense blades of grass, the chirping of birds, wild life dancing among the fields, Bel drew the eye for the fact that she stood out of place. From the fin crest that followed the line of her back, to the long tail ending in a fluke. The two sets of eyes, and ram horns – or the frilled ears and gills. She didn’t look like the sort meant to be seen ABOVE the waterline. And yet . . . here she was. Her hooves shuffled beneath her awkwardly, before she began to move forward again. Her step was light, graceful, but . . . bouncy. So used to wading through waters when she wasn’t swimming, being on land was off kilter.
Previously she’d have to push off with her hooves a touch to make progress through water, but now – moving through air (although across land and not the sky) left her with constantly having to watch herself least she over do her step and send herself tumbling through the air from pushing off to hard again. Her tail was being utilized to help her, held aloof for balance, the end of it flicking faintly every few moments. Up, down, in time with her steps. One, two. Careful not to push against the ground to hard least she be propelled forward with more force than intended. Step, step. She was getting the hang of it so long as all of her focus remained on the task at hand (walking) and she didn’t let herself get distracted . . . walking and talking was not a course of action in her immediate future.
There was just so many things that were different about living mostly above land rather than mostly below the ocean. And while she might enjoy no longer having to run away from every nasty with teeth that she came across – she did miss the beauty of the water . . . and her ability to move without concern through it. Step, ste-. And as her mind wandered back to water, her back left hoof pushed off from the earth with just enough force for the mare to stumble a few steps, resulting in her splaying her limbs in an attempt to keep from keep her balance. She had just about as much grace as a 1 limbed octopus on land! She shook her head, snorting soundly at herself, before gathering her legs properly under her, her tail flicking in agitation as the fluke cut through the grass, flattening the strands in its wake. Stomping her hooves a few times to draw her attention to the task at hand, the aquatic equine moved forward once more, determined to go at least 5 minutes without stumbling. She wasn’t a clownfish, she had no intention of being laughed at!
Her steps smoothed slowly, as she worked hard to keep her balance to the best of her ability – hard ground was always the most difficult for her – more solid footing to push off from when she least wanted it to, but thankfully the grass helped counter it with enough cushion that she was starting to get the hang of it, only stumbling every few minutes – the space between each stumble increasing slightly as she made her way more firmly to the middle of this meeting place of Dusk Court, fully intending to introduce herself properly to the one who led this Court.
Thoughts Speech
Tagging: @Asterion
i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind Now I'm full of energy
I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone
It is Cirrus who spots the newcomer first, as the gull circles the court in the warm afternoon light.
Spring had been quick to come this year - a relief, after the past few winters Novus had seen. Today the fields and woodlands were all in bloom, a thick carpet of emerald dotted with a full palette of color from all the wildflowers that nodded their head in the breeze. The mare is unmissable against it, a mark of pale blue and snow-white to Cirrus’ airborne eye, and the gull tips her wings and drifts a little closer. She knows she is easy to ignore, among all the other seabirds near the coast, remarkable only to those familiar with Asterion’s companion, and she watches the strange mare stumble like a new foal before rising on an updraft another dozen yards.
Asterion, she thinks down their mental bond, and the bay king pauses his walk through the courtyard. There is someone you should meet. She is - and here the bird pauses, and the man twists an ear, wondering, wary. She is from the sea, Cirrus finishes, and all Asterion can think is kelpie.
He has yet to meet one of the creatures they say haunt the shores and swamps of the Dusk Court, but there have been reports that suggest they are not as much vacant myth as he might have believed. And now, as he crossed the courtyard with the sun warm on his back and passes through the great gate out into the rolling fields, he weighs eagerness with caution. It is easy to spot Cirrus, a white speck against a blue sky, and she drops swiftly through the air to perch upon his withers. Asterion flicks his tail at her by way of greeting, but his gaze is still searching those waving grasses, waiting to see what parts them.
And when he does spot her, his first feeling is wonder.
The Dusk King should be accustomed, by now, to the people of Novus in all their shapes and colors and strange additions; and yet he has never seen anyone like her. The bay’s approach slows to an easy walk, but his eyes are keen and dark upon her skin, her stripes, her long and thick fish-tail. Not until they are only a few dozen lengths apart does he note the glint of her second pair of eyes; not until they are near enough to speak does he remember to be wary.
He stops, then, curling his dark muzzle toward his chest, still regarding her out of those eyes the color of deep evening, of dark water. “Hale, stranger,” he says, and on his back Cirrus flaps her wings and resettles them against her sides. “Welcome to the Dusk Court.”
Asterion doesn’t know if it’s curiosity or warning that has the slumbering magic in him waking, a churning of water, the taste of salt in his mouth.
Below Zero
my frost philosophy will put no curse on me
Had Bel been aware of the eye in the sky, she might be far more self conscious about her few stumbles as she made her way through the fields - in utter truth she was far out of her element here, among the earthen grounds. Where was the sand that eased her steps. The water the made her awkward steps a graceful dance? Oh what a sight she must make to that sky bound eye - thankfully she wasn't aware that her presence had been noticed - and watched by the gull above - and her existence announced to another - the one she'd approached the lands to find.
Mind you, not in any attempts to woo or other form of fancy - but for the status he held. He was Triton . . . . er, King? of these lands, and it was these lands, this Pod . . . herd . . . group she hoped to find home with. But as a white shape from above - a creature she'd overlooked well enough earlier - swooped down, her eyes alit upon what appeared to be an approaching brown figure - still far enough in the distance.
But as she started to more firmly make out the creature approaching - a white splash on his withers now taking shape into the gull, and his form more notably equine, rather than something less familiar. However, he was still different to Below Zero's eyes. Much of this world was tho. So used to fellows with tails like her own, variety of fins and protective horns adorning skulls . . . the creatures of Novus with their dense pelts, their muscular forms, their long manes and tails. They seemed so foreign to her.
Sure, beneath the smooth layer of blubber beneath her own silky, singular layered coat, she was built fairly similar, her skeleton being near identical if not for the horns and the extension of her spine into a tail . . . but beyond that, she was aware of all the differences. She wasn't like the others here. Water vapors continued to release around her spine, the temperature shifting into a much, much colder temperature, misting over her form with the weight the cold, cold vapors held until it felt like the more comfortable temperature of the deep sea, relaxing what had been quickly approaching thoughts of anxiety and fear.
Starting of somewhere new was always hard. Going from water to land made it even more so. Still her posture remained on the defensive - a slight shift in her stance that spoke of her readiness to bolt the first moment trouble rose it's fanged features. Until that point, however, she remained watching with a weariness, standing still as the approaching male slowed to a walk, looking her over with the usual curiosity she'd started to see from what she considered the locals of Novus. Her primary set of eyes focused on him, while the smaller, secondary set seemed to keep an eye on their surroundings, keeping her aware of any trouble that might even prepare to sneak up from behind her.
Sure, she doubted that a shark might come up from behind her at any moment while on land, but old habits died hard, and keeping a constant look out for dangers while on the swim had saved her scales more than once - even if she didn't actually have any scales. The male finally speaks, curling his muzzle towards his chest, even as he kept his eyes on her. Instantly the greeting is returned, though perhaps a touch more formal as she came to realize she was likely approached by the King indeed.
One hoof curled beneath her, the other extending out as her head tucked to her chest, giving a much more direct view of the cartilage-thick fin that raced down her spine from her forehead to half the length of her tail. That same tail shifted, curving around her body, the fluke twisting faintly to be perpendicular with the ground rather than the usual parallel placement. She lifted from the bow as he spoke in greeting, her dual set of eyes both focusing on him for a moment, as she afford an extremely shy and uncertain smile in return to the welcome, "Hello . . . . Uh, Thank you . . . for the welcome, I mean."
Bel felt like banging her forehead against coral, she had practiced an entire speech of 'hi, this is who I am', and here she was babbling like an awkward fry! She shifted awkwardly from forehoof to forehoof as she silently berated herself at her horribly awkward greeting, before she found her rhythm - kinda, "I apologize, that sounded . . . ." She paused, pulling a self-deprecating face in explanation for just how foolish that had come across as, "Uhm, my name is Bel, well Below Zero, but I prefer Bel . . . less of a mouthful. I'm here, er; that is I"m looking for the King, uhm . . . of this Court . . . I'm guess - er, I mean . . . That is you, isn't it?" At this point, she'd gained a half plea to her tone, as if his answer to it being him will solve all of her awkward issues.
Water vapors trailed off of her, twisting through the air briefly before resettling against her pelt with their frigid temperature, as she fought to let herself relax a touch more - having worked herself into such an awkward state of half panic over her inability to properly explain who she was, and why she was here. She'd had it rehearsed, for Davy's sake! She buried the desire to shake her head at herself, and instead returned her gaze to the bay before her, letting the vapors of water settling against her skin soothe her better than her own thoughts could manage, and with a slight sigh, she tried again, "Oh, fish food, let me try this again. My name is Bel, and I'm looking for the Trit- er, King of Dusk Court, Asterion. If that isn't you, could you take me to him, and if that is you, please don't let my earlier introduction murk up any opinion of me."
She paused, feeling like she'd missed something, before both sets of eyes seemed to widen almost comically, "Oh, and I'm here because I'm looking for a new Pod . . . And was hoping to find a home in Dusk Court . . . And, again, I'm sorry for how much of a guppy I must seem at this point . . . I'm still finding my fins about this place, it's been quite the awakening experience leaving the water." She added, that shyness back now as her dual gaze dropped to the ground at her hooves, as she tried to explain away her horrendous behavior. Clearly she wasn't part lionfish, she just hoped she hadn't immediately ruined any chance at a home with her less than perfect introduction.
Thoughts Speech
Tagging: @Asterion
i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind Now I'm full of energy
I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone
Asterion doesn’t think he’ll ever grow used to being bowed to.
Like each time before, as he watches the stranger drop into her greeting, his smile is soft despite his discomfort at the gesture. As with so many foreign things, it marks the way his life is different now, though he feels no more like a king than he had the day Florentine had made him one.
Still, his wariness is already easing as she straightens and speaks, and his smile is widening at her words; little of her seems like a threat, only like another wanderer looking for home. “It’s my privilege,” he answers, but the words are hardly out before the stranger continues. As she speaks (as talkative, he thinks, as his sister is) he settles back where he stands, trying to keep his expression genial and his smile from curling into a grin. Even Cirrus, ever more wary than he, has relaxed enough to begin grooming her feathers, though her quick dark eyes often flit back to the newcomer.
When she mentions King he stands a little taller, and is prepared to answer her in the affirmative - but before he can speak she is continuing again, and this time he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. At once he regrets it, not wanting to make her feel embarrassed, but perhaps with the rate of her talking she hadn’t even noticed.
This time he doesn’t try to speak until he’s certain she’s finished, and as he listens he continues to regard her, from her dorsal fin and markings to the mist that rolls off her in waves. A thousand questions are rising to his tongue - where she’s from, why she’s come to Novus, whether she will be happy so far from the sea-bed. It isn’t until her gaze drops and she falls silent that he stretches his muzzle toward hers the way he might reassure a foal.
“I’m humbled you’ve chosen our court, Bel,” he says at last. “As you’ve guessed, I am Asterion, and it’s my pleasure to be the first to make your introduction. Are you sure you’re comfortable, so far from the shore? The sea makes up half the borders of Terrastella, and I’d be glad to go there if it would be easier.” He does not add that he’s seldom far from it, anyway, or that his dreams are full of thrashing waves and moonlight on the water; she’ll discover soon enough his reputation as a dreamer.
“It took me a long time to adjust to Novus,” the bay adds, hoping to reassure her. “And I didn’t even have to leave my element.” His smile turns a little wry, at that - those first strange days of castles and kings, everything more strange than his own magic could ever be.
@Below Zero your incorporation of her words/culture is so fun!
Below Zero
my frost philosophy will put no curse on me
Bel didn't need to see the signs of just how horrible this first meeting was going. She could see it in the way his smile was steadily widening - at which point she felt like finding the first eel hole and drawling deep inside. Or maybe taking up shack with a squid or octopus. Either felt like better options then continue this extremely awkward, and horribly uncomfortable conversation. His answer was barely out - and as soon as she began to speak over him, she could already see her features widening in displeasure. And of course she couldn't stop speaking with out seeming like a bigger clownfish!
She tries to keep herself going steady - even if she felt like becoming one with the sand sharks and burying herself deep. It had to be a better solution then continuing this horribly embarrassing one sided conversation. And she realizes it's one-sided. Other than the reactions she was getting. The smile that seemed to be twitching to grow in strength. The bird who had even relaxed into grooming no less. When she does bring up a King, he stands taller and she can at least be certain that the individual she is making a fool of herself with is he, but of course, she can't not speak before he can reply. Her entire frame seems to twitch with embarrassment as a laugh leaves him, and her finned ears flick lightly, shifting in distress. Oh goodness, she'd rather go for a solo dive in the mariana trench!
Finally she managed to fall silent - and by the grace of the seven seas she stays silent, her gaze lowering only to jerk up again when his muzzle stretches towards her. A primitive part of her brain recognizes the motion to be that of reassurance, although not a motion she knew from experience. There was love and compassion growing up, but the Pod didn't have time for reassurances, you had to grow up tough, and fast.
Still he spoke, and it was far more of a relief than she could say when she was met with distinct kindness, as if she hadn't spoken over him for half a dozen sentences of chaos. Okay, so maybe a fair few more than just a half dozen sentences. Still, she couldn't help but relax a fair bit at his words. She smiled faintly, the smile willingly reaching the dual set of eyes that clearly spoke of relief that she hadn't manage to completely ruin this plea of admittance to the court.
She dipped her head again in greeting when he did announce himself as Asterion, smiling faintly, before tilting her head in surprise to his question of comfort. When he spoke of the shore her gaze immediately turned towards the direction of the sea, the wisps of water vapor turning warmer at the thought. She turned her attention back to the stallion before, allowing him stage to continue speaking - of having taken a long time to adjust Novus, and she nodded once.
"I am fairly certain I've got a long swim ahead of me to become used to these lands. I will admit that it is . . . difficult being so far from the waters, I spent far more of my years in the depth then ashore. It's been a rough transition so far. I will admit that the sea bordering the land may have played a part in my choosing of your court." Goodness, couldn't she have found an easier, faster way to say that.
Her gaze turned towards the sea, remembering he'd spoken of moving their conversation there for her comfort, and she shook her head, "I thank you for the offer, but I have no desire to force you to move just to accommodate me. Perhaps after our talk, I'd welcome a tour to view it, however. And the rest of the lands, as well of course." She shifted her hooves faintly, glancing briefly at the gull on his back before back up at the stallion again, "But I do hope to become more accustomed to this island, and being on an island with time. It's a vastly different world then I come from . . . . but the dangers are certainly less here. I'm no fraidy-fish, really . . . but one can only outswim sharks for so long." Why couldn't she stop talking! Where one sentence would have done she had to add like seven others. And she felt like she was repeating herself. Oh, sea cucumbers! What a great impression she was shaping out to be. She was really feeling the desire to escape on the tide, with out a doubt. Still, she kept quite again, allowing him a time to respond - with out speaking over him. And hoping that she wasn't going to keep mucking this thing up. You only had one chance to properly impress a Triton, and join their pod; and she was certain that she was treading water just barely.
Thoughts Speech
Tagging: @Asterion
i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind Now I'm full of energy
I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone
Asterion does not share her discomfort, though it’s something he well recognizes, having felt it often enough himself. He is still tempted to blush when he thinks of the foolish boy he’d been at first, wide-eyed with wonder for each new thing, from wine to windows. He isn’t sure he even would have possessed the courage to present himself to a sovereign on his first day, and for that alone he thinks Bel brave.
Of course, when Asterion was nervous he became even more tight-lipped, falling into silence with his uncertainty; that, perhaps, was the main place they differed.
“We’re here to help you as we can,” he says, and even Cirrus lifts her head as if to agree. The bay king follows her gaze out toward the sea, though it is too far to hear the sigh of the waves, or taste the salt in the breeze. Yet he does feel cool, damp air against his skin, light as a mist, and turns back to her in soft surprise. Only then does he notice the vapor rolling off her skin, and the bay’s smile turns brighter. Though he says nothing of his own water-magic, his tireless curiosity turns to hers. Perhaps he needn’t worry so - it seemed she was better-equipped than he imagined.
“Cirrus and I would love to give you a tour,” he says, and flicks his tail at his companion, who clacks her bright beak at him good-naturedly. “And I would like to hear of the world you came from, too, when you are ready to share it. I have…a great affinity, for the water.” It’s an understatement, he thinks wryly (and Cirrus agrees, sending a seagull’s sigh down the mental bond they share), but Asterion has never been open about his magic, and not even he knows the furthest limits of his power. Anyway, his meaning is more mundane, for his lifelong love of the sea has always been more for what it teaches him (patience, beauty, strength, steadiness) than how he can bend it to his will.
Now he regards her again, though he has stepped back to a polite distance, and tries to keep his gaze from wandering in curiosity over her features. When she mentions sharks his expression grows more serious, and the king nods, thoughtful, though it is not fish he is thinking of. “Indeed,” he says, “and on that note I should mention there are stories of kelpies who come to shore beneath the full moon, or live solitary in the depths of the swamp. I have not seen any, nor heard reports, but you should know of it.” Only then does he remember his earlier thought, and he tilts his head toward her. “Please excuse my rudeness in asking, but - are you a kelpie?”
Below Zero
my frost philosophy will put no curse on me
Bel wouldn’t consider herself brave, not truly. She might be a bit self-reliant, a necessity in the life of the Pod, but brave . . . not at all. Her people had been a fearful race, running from danger, casting out those who might lead such danger back. She had been raised in that environment, lived such a life. So while one might see her as courageous for approaching a triton of these lands, she merely saw it as another step in her survival plan for land.
She had seen how much these Courts seemed to mean to those of the isle she had found herself on, how much the entire system of the island seemed to rely on being part of a court. If a court was what it took, aligning herself to a new pod, er herd; then so be it. She would do whatever it took to make her life easier, to find her way to be part of this world above. So she’d done her digging around, she’d found out about each court, and in the end she’d made her way to meet the triton of the dusk. King. King of the dusk. There were also plenty of words she’d have to learn to use too.
He spoke with a kindness then, assuring her of his and his fine gull’s help in any way they could. She smiled to both, dipping her head in greeting, as her finned ears flicked faintly, in less of an anxious position and into one that seemed a bit more relaxed, even if her tail seemed to twitch and sway with nervous energy. Her gaze moved from he to the gull, “I fear I may need all the help I can get, but I certainly am grateful to you both for offering assistance. ” She spoke with obvious sincerity. As it was, she felt like every second she was one awkward splash from going under, but with enough practice and patience she’d figure out how to tread the water – so to speak – and find a way of discovering her place on land.
Although, at the mention of the sea, the young mare turned her gaze towards the water, a slight touch of yearning in her eyes for it. The soft crashing of waves, the salt in the air – and more importantly the rainbow of life below the surface . . . . home. The stallion suddenly turned towards her, and she notices a shift in his expression, his gaze seeming to focus on something before his smile grew significantly brighter. She turned her attention more properly onto him to see what his reaction was from, before noting the focus of the vapors. She smiled with faint amusement, “Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t quite turn off the vaporing thing. I guess you can take the Treader out of the water, but not the water from the Treader. We’re a species born of the sea, story says.” Instinctively she had used the nickname of what her kind called their species, and she chose not to mention that the story actually spoke of her kind being born from the sea of another sort. Besides, those were just stories, not even as a calf . . . no, land-equines referred to the young as foals . . . so many terms to relearn.
She tilted her head when he agreed to a tour, her eyes seeming to light up, “Oh, truly! That’d be delightful! I’m not the sort to swim into another’s territory, thank a lucky starfish that I managed to even find my way to this meadow fairly easily!” Well easy if you paid no attention to her inability to take five steps without trying to kiss the ground, that is. With enough practice she’d gain her land-legs though, it would just take some time, “So, I would really be grateful to see as much as you’re willing to show on the tour! I mean, this meadow is pretty, and the view of the sea is lovely – but I’m certain there is much, much more too it.” She mused.
It was then that he spoke of hearing from the world she came from, speaking of a great affinity to the water. She hesitated for a moment, seemingly thinking of his words, before she allowed a small nod, “I’d be more than happy to tell you tales of the sea.” She agreed, careful to only agree to that, and not accidentally promise to speak about the life she came from. Speaking of the ocean, that was easy . . . opening old wounds and poking barely healed scars from what was her life with pod . . . that wasn’t so easy. “I’d really be happy to tell you anything you’d like to hear, I’m rather fond of the sea after all; so any questions you have of the ocean, please feel free to ask.”
Besides, she was fairly certain she could tell him of places in the ocean he wouldn’t believe! Of waters so dark, fish had to make their own light. Of massive creatures that made a full grown Treader feel like krill. Of places where you could walk out of the water and breath air, despite being far, far below the water’s surface. Tales of the massive forgotten cities below the water, and of some of the unique creatures who call such places home. She could tell him of so many wonders . . . she wouldn’t know where to start.
His attention is back on her again, and she returns his gaze as she notes him stepping back to the point of what one might call a polite distance, not that Below Zero thought too much of it. Where she came from, it wasn’t uncommon to ignore other’s personal space in favor of shared warmth – but when you make your home among the ice caps and frozen waters of the arctic, you had to make sacrifices along the way. Personal boundaries were such a sacrifice. He did seem to want to make note of something for her though – of those who come to shore beneath the full moon, living solitary in the depths of reports. Creatures called Kelpies that he hadn’t seen, but he’d heard the stories of them.
It wasn’t until he asked for forgiveness for rudeness before asking if she was a Kelpie. This time, a laugh bubbled up from her, shaking her finned head in amusement, “A kelpie? Certainly not. Perhaps they are kin, or similar. But, no, we call ourselves Vapor Treaders, or Treaders for short. From the stories I’ve heard of those creatures, they have both an aquatic and equine form depending on their environment. We treaders, we’re stuck in the middle of two worlds; our forms never changing. And I can’t imagine any of my kind choosing a swamp to live in full time, especially by ourselves. We tend to stick to colder climates at least. This is the longest time I’ve spent in any kind of ‘milder’ environment.” She admitted, still with light laughter. “And, personally, I prefer being an aqua-equine. I can come and go without having to shift forms, beyond the subtle holding of my breath so my gills close up properly and my lungs work again.” She added after a thought. “And I certainly take no offense to being asked – a curious mind is a learning mind.” She reassured, smiling kindly at the triton.
Thoughts Speech
Tagging: @Asterion
i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind Now I'm full of energy
I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone
The bay king recognizes the longing in her gaze - it’s as familiar to him as his own reflection, so often does he wear it. Always he is yearning for the sea or the stars, for the peace that came with them both. How much more must it be for her, being born of them?
It’s a thought that’s only reinforced by what she says next, and though he shakes his head at her sorry it’s the second part of her statement that catches him.
“Oh, please don’t apologize,” he says, and his own smile is soft and wry. “I was just very interested - I’ve never met anyone else who could do it. I can see how it must be helpful,” he says, and stops before he begins to get carried away. Almost he’d told her how, when he was first learning his magic, in moments of strong emotion his own skin had begun to bead and roll with saltwater, or a mist would build around him. Luckily he’s long since mastered such behaviors, but her own seemed more to do with regulating her temperature and less in giving away her moods. “And a Treader - I like that.” There is a moment where a grin flickers across his features, slant-lipped and boyish, but it does not linger long.
Each moment that passes finds him relaxing more in her presence; despite his first moments of wariness he is entirely charmed by her torrent of conversation and each bit of her people’s speech. Despite the stars that touch his own skin, Asterion thinks that he might begin thanking a lucky starfish the way that she does. “This meadow is pretty,” he agrees, “and will be moreso each day, now that spring has come. Locally it’s called Susurro Fields.”
With a tilt of his head he indicates that they begin to walk; once he is sure she will follow, the king makes his way toward the walls of the city, his pace relaxed. Cirrus, now that all have been acquainted, takes off from his back with a brief prick of her toes and is gone, rising swiftly with the sun on her wings. The bay keeps his attention on Bel, a dark ear twisted toward her even as his gaze scans the curving fields.
“I’ll try not to make you regret it,” he answers her, and his smile still rests in the corner of his mouth. Had he any notion what she’d seen - Asterion has not even conceived of cities below the sea (though to be fair, he’d never imagined them before Novus, either), nor the utter darkness beyond where the light could reach - he would have already been asking.
At the sound of her laugh he pauses, his gaze slanting over to her, and finds he is too curious to be abashed. Once he might have been embarrassed; now he only wonders what her laugh might sound like underwater. “Ah, thank you for the clarification. I was more wondering about the…dietary differences.” He does not add anything about making a meal of her fellow equines; nothing of their meeting had given him a sense of it. Instead he shifts his curiosity elsewhere, eyeing the faint mark of her gills with interest. “Such a switch sounds like it could be uncomfortable. Do you prefer breathing underwater, or above?”
Below Zero
my frost philosophy will put no curse on me
There was so much about Bel that made her out to be the creature of the sea she was. From the fins and gills, to the vapors of water; to even her ability to communicate underwater, although beneath the waves her voice turned musical with the song of the ocean when words couldn’t suffice. But even on land, her ears perked for the song, her body leaked the vapors of her origins, her being was still that for an aquatic. It left quite the identity crisis when you thought too hard on it as well. She’d spent a good few months as a young one wondering if she was a creature of the water that could go on land, or a creature of the land that could live in water. When you belong to both worlds, which one can claim you? She had felt at odds then, and just as much so now if she let herself ponder too much on it. To aquatic for land, to land based to be a creature solely of the water. It was easier to not ponder on that.
She tilted her head towards the male as he assured her of no need to apologize, that he had merely been interested, having never met anyone else who could do it, describing it as helpful. She was about to respond when she paused on his words, tilting her head curiously towards him, “Anyone else who could do it? Have you met another Treader before? Or another who tends to leak water, even if just as vapors?” She asked curiously, frilled ears perking up in obvious interest of another who might be something like her. Perhaps it was a call, a need to not feel alone after her sudden split from the Pod (a feeling she was hoping would fade as she acquainted herself with this Triton’s pod . . . King’s herd. However when he commented on the nickname of her kind, she tilted her head, smiling back to his own grin – even if his didn’t remain in place for long. She practically preened at the compliment, “We’re not sure where, or who surfaced the term to describe ourselves . . .
“The old ones claim it came from our original home – should you believe the stories. A planet nearly completely filled with water, where when darkness falls the entire world begins to glow.” She explained with a laugh, “I’m certain they’re just old tales, the creation of a bored mind wanting a place where we fit in better, glow and all.” Every civilization had a creation story, hers just involved planetary hopping. “But as just a youth in the pod, those stories were my favorites to listen to.”
It wasn’t just the sovereign who was growing more comfortable, the aqua-equine was feeling her own nerves settle, her own anxiety ebb away. Her words were less rushed, less constant, and seemed to be slipping smoothly into the conversation rather than taking it over like before. Her tail was swishing less with nervous ticks, barely swaying as she relaxed in the company, and the conversation following the current to the next topic – the land. She tilted her head at the mention of spring, wondering just how hot that, and summer; might get. As if in preparation and reassurance her vapors seemed to cool rapidly, until they felt more like the cold spray of stormy waves, and would be more than capable of helping her adjust to a new climate. “I don’t think I’ve really experienced too much of a spring or summer. I look forward to seeing the meadow then.” She paused, tilting her head, sunlight gleaming off the ram-like horns on either side of her extended dorsal fin, “Susurro Fields . . . ” She repeated carefully, before nodding once, she was certain she would be able to remember that.
He invites her to walk then, with a tilt of his head, indicating a tour to make. She dipped her head lightly in response, falling into step, though spending half of her thoughts on how she was walking and being cautious to remember NOT to push off of the ground when she steps. She smiled in amusement when he comments of trying not to make her regret her words, glancing towards him, “Well I appreciate the sentiment, but I highly doubt you could easily overrun me with too many questions . . . . I think we established earlier that that is my job.” She mused, making light of her earlier rambling waterfall of words that had seemed unending. Of course, she didn’t know of his own connection to the sea yet, and had she been aware of how deeply his attachment went . . . well, no, even then he probably couldn’t out talk her when she was awkwardly embarrassed.
She couldn’t help but laugh at being asked about being a Kelpie, and she smiled easily, her dainty muzzle carrying the expression to her eyes when he mentioned dietary differences, “I don’t eat other horses.” Her tone was laughing, light and amused; as she turned her smile more fully onto him, her eyes practically glittering in her amusement at the topic, “Although I do prefer seagrasses to the land variety, and I’m not stranger to eating smaller organisms and fish with in the waters. You couldn’t be too picky when living in a desolate arctic.” She informed, hoping he wouldn’t be alarmed by that tidbit of information. Solely herbivore she was not. “But there’s no worries that you’d wake up one morning to find me chewing on a limb.” She assured, still more than slightly amused at the topic.
His gaze rests on her gills next, and she wasn’t too surprised by the question to follow, even as she shook her head, “I wouldn’t consider it uncomfortable. It’s a quick process, fifteen seconds at most. If I don’t hold my breath and try to force the switch – that’s when it gets uncomfortable. Trying to breath air, while your gills are half closed, and your lungs slowly turning back on . . . it’s an odd feeling. Breath too much, too quick in the process and you’ll find yourself coughing from overfilling your lungs.” She shared willingly, before smiling in thought, “There’s not much of a difference between breathing above or below water, at least not to me. But I’ll always prefer underwater just because that was where I first found my place, and the scenery is nothing to scoff at either. If you know where to look, there is a rainbow of colors alive below the water – the plants, fish, all of it . . . . it’s hypnotizing with it’s beauty.” She paused for a brief moment, her smile half falter, “At least, it is until you accidentally cage yourself by swimming under the reef and ending up lost in a maze of the multi-colored corals . . . . But that’s a story for another time.”
Thoughts Speech
Tagging: @Asterion
i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind Now I'm full of energy
I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone
Asterion could no better answer the question of belonging than she.
Oh, he knows he is no thing of water - even all the stories he stuffed his head with as a boy taught him better than that; he is not so much a fool - but there has always been in him a desire to wander. What, whispers his heart, lies beyond that next ridge? What path below that crescent moon? What might the waves tell you, on the shore beyond this one? And yet, and yet, home became an anchor, each new person he loved a stone. They weight him down, they beg him stay.
For now, he listens.
She catches it, that little phrase, and a smile flickers across his mouth. “Myself,” he says, a little embarrassed, and when he looks at her his gaze is boyish, eyes gleaming bright and dark hair tousled. “When I first recovered my magic, I…couldn’t control it in moments of high emotion. It gave me a tendency to, ah, condensate. Happily I am beyond that now.” Asterion isn’t sure he’s mentioned it to anybody before; it strikes him as funny, now, to be telling a near-perfect stranger. Now she has a piece of him, knowing something nobody else does.
“I believe all stories,” he answers, and his voice is solemn even though that little gleam of laughter still lives in his eyes, a pearl inside a dark, cool shell. The king makes a note to ask her more of those stories - in particular, the mention of glowing had caught him, and he envisions a world where the horses shine like little stars in the dark.
“They’re lovely here,” he says of the seasons. “My favorite are the late-spring storms - a gentle thunder, and scouring rain.” It’s one storm in particular he remembers as they walk, the one that had broken like a dam on his second day in Novus, the day he had met Florentine. Learning he had a sister had felt like the first brush of the hand of fate across his back; now it had him fully in its palm - if one believed in it.
He looks back to her at the sound of her laughter, smiles himself at the way it touches both sets of her eyes, and the way the sunlight gleams off the soft gray of her horns. “I’m relieved to hear it,” he says, grinning back. The easy expression lingers as she continues to speak, even as he focuses his attention back on the fields ahead of them, and the jut of the keep as it rises like a cliff above the plain. Yet it is her kingdom he thinks of (that he knows already he will dream of) and not his own. “I take it you escaped,” he says with a laugh. “But that all sounds…beautiful. I should like to see it, someday.” Impossible, of course - but Asterion wonders, all the same.
@Below Zero <3 do you mind if we wrap up in the next post or two? they should thread again (and soon!) but I'm trying to close up what of my list I can with all the swp stuff happening
![[Image: i-jTNwWx8.png]](https://photos.smugmug.com/BelowZeroNovus/n-X9d9fZ/i-jTNwWx8/1/e09fb6c3/O/i-jTNwWx8.png)
