[AW] shorebird

[Nicnevin]

SHE’S A WATERFALL PLUNGING OVER THE LIP OF A CLIFF:
white foam shattering on the rocks below.

Blessing of blessings. Fate must be smiling down on me, because I am found quickly.

I am studying the shoreline, wishing that I could wipe that horrible taste from my mouth. It doesn’t burn, but the taste lingers, and it’s nearly stale on my tongue. I thought that the ceremonial wine that the priestesses serve in the temple during rituals was the most disgusting drink in the world, designed to quell your appetite, but I think that this might be worse. The ceremonial wine didn’t sting, and it smelled nice. This smells…

I don’t know how to describe it. Sharp, maybe.

I didn’t have wings in many of my lifetimes, and, even when I did, I was always constrained in where they could take me. It strikes me that, if I fly up, I will be able to get a better view of the landscape – and, if there is anywhere civilized nearby, I might be able to pick it out from above. I’m not sure what I want to, though. The cliffs are jagged and slick, like wolf’s teeth, and the wind is strong. I managed to glide down to the shore without much trouble, but that was just gliding, and I was still buffeted by the wind. I glance up, biting down a grimace. It’s not as though I can’t fly. I’ve always been rather good at it, in fact – but the forest prioritized agility, the ability to swiftly dodge trees, not this.

It’s probably not worth worrying over. I’m sure that I can handle it, and I need to get back up the cliffs anyways-

There is someone else on the beach – approaching me.

It occurs to me in rapid succession that there must be stairs on the cliff-side, for her to have gotten down without wings, and I probably should have noticed them earlier, and that she might have seen me attempt to drink that foul liquid. (I certainly hope that she didn’t; the humiliation, I’m sure, would be nauseating.) She carries a hurlbat, which does not worry me so much as it makes me intimately aware that I stumbled into this new world unarmed. I should have asked the priestesses for a weapon, at least. A spear, or a sword, or a bow – anything would have been better than relying on this still-youthful body. It would have been excusable if I’d had a spiraling horn, as I did last time, which was a weapon in itself, but the coiling horns on my skull are not well-equipped for any kind of combat.

I haven’t met many foreigners, and, when I have, I primarily met them on the battlefield. (I wonder what her accent will be like, and if she’s a native to this land; I hope so.) We aren’t on the battlefield, and she probably could have snuck up on me if she were looking for trouble, so I watch her with something like nervous anticipation, trying to keep the chestnut tangles of my hair out of my eyes. (In the tumultuous influence of the wind, it’s a feat.) When I get a better look at her, I decide that she can’t be much older than I am, in this lifetime; a year or two at most.

Unless it’s death, whatever you’re looking for probably isn’t in the middle of the ocean. Her accent is – unfamiliar. I knew to expect it, but somehow it still feels strange; her voice doesn’t seem like it should be a voice to me. I tell myself to just be grateful that we speak the same language. It’s too much to expect anything familiar, here.

“The…oh-shin?” I repeat, hoping that I adhered to her pronunciation correctly. I incline my head, slightly, towards the liquid thing lapping up the shoreline – I assume that she is referring to it. “That?” Is it deadly? I hope not, or, if it is, I certainly hope that it isn’t poisonous, at least in small quantities. I’ve died before, and, while I’m not particularly afraid of dying again, I don’t want to die before I find the heir; I swore an oath in blood to the priestesses, and my honor would never permit me to be an oathbreaker.

If I die, it should be an honorable death: not the result of impulsively sipping some unknown substance.

(I must admit – being young again is horribly frustrating.)

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@open! || sorry O for the fact that she....knows Nothing 

"Speech!" 

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