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