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
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
![[Image: i-jTNwWx8.png]](https://photos.smugmug.com/BelowZeroNovus/n-X9d9fZ/i-jTNwWx8/1/e09fb6c3/O/i-jTNwWx8.png)
