The tide crashed upon the shore. Rhythmic and calming, the rolling waves called to her. Ki’irha stood upon the sandy beach, watching the Terminus Sea wave lazily at her beneath the full moon. The small waves lapping past where the water broke upon the shore were tipped in silver light, and she watched with her own stormy gaze the sea which seemed to stretch on forever. The briny breeze coated her with the delicate scent of salt, and as she breathed in the ocean air, she felt a certain sense of relief that only came from those drawn to the sea. Like the ocean’s tide, the midnight woman felt herself called by the moon. Before, she found herself captivated by the mountains; but now, with no snow-capped peaks in sight, she found herself longing for the ocean. She had arrived near here, some short time ago. And more than that, she wondered if this was the same endless blue she had looked upon at home.
Eyes looked up towards the star-strewn heavens, and she traced the galaxies dancing across the inky blue. If there was one thing consistent about her across the worlds she had been in, it was the fact that she felt at home beneath this sky. Her mother had told her that the summer night sky stained her coat on the day she was born; that star fire had burned the sky’s mirror image upon her back, that it had coated her ankles so she would always dance upon moonlight. It was a fun story, as a child, but even as she had grown, she always somehow felt less lonely beneath the constellations.
A chattering, a sweet twee-wee-wee, and her sculpted face turned to look at what her ears had already found. Small sandpipers chased the ebbing tide, their long beaks looking for small morsels tucked beneath the bubbling sand. She watched, a delicate smile painted upon her features, as one of the small birds pried open the smallest shell, pecking away the meat, before heading back into the foam in search for more.
The wolf within her, the bristling creature holding up her guards since she had first arrived here, seemed to recede, and she appeared visibly relaxed. A sigh escaped her, and as she watched the birds, she allowed the ocean’s breeze to wash away her hardened facade, and left her as she was always meant to be-
Inadvisable, that’s how strolling along an unknown beach in the middle of the night would be accurately described. Willfully irresponsible even, with the rhythmic crashing of waves and a near constant whine of coastal wind in her ears negating her usually sharp sense of hearing. In fact, now that she thinks about it, the coast is an ideal place for an ambush. There’s noise interference, the overpowering odor of salt to mask any personal scent, the constant shifting of water to draw away a victim’s eye, loose and too yielding a footing to allow a clean escape. ”Storytellers should really utilize the setting more often in cautionary tales.” She announces to no one in particular, trailing along the waterline with her nose low and ears forward, stopping occasionally to overturn a shell or scatter a jiggling blob of seafoam with her breath.
”Why is it they always go for forests?” She asks the tiny scavenger birds, creeping close to watch their hunt for burrowing mollusks in the sand. ”We’re good at running and weaving. If I were going to murder someone, I wouldn’t play into that strength.” She’s quick to assure the pipers, despite being undeterred by the morbidity of the subject, ”Not that I plan on murdering anyone that is.”
Embarrassingly, it’s at that particular moment that she realizes she’s not alone with the flotsam and shorebirds.
She startles, hazel eyes going wide and an involuntary burst of air fluttering across her nostrils as she stammers a graceless, ”O-oh! I didn’t notice you there!” To the star speckled mare in front of her. Heat sears across her dappled cheeks, embarrassment and anxiety tucking her leonine tail close to her heels. Ironic, she thinks with resentment, I guess that’s what I get for planning a hypothetical murder.
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