At first, he thinks he must be wrong. The moon hides her face again, the creature goes back to a silhouette, nothing moves or breathes but the water.
And then she’s coming toward him, the waves breaking around her belly, then her knees, then her hocks, until they’re standing a few feet apart on the beach, her dripping seawater like a faerie dripping pearls, him trying not to shiver just from looking at her.
Ah, it’s good - he’d forgotten how good - to hear his name said as affectionately as she says it.
“Older,” he says, with a wrinkle of his nose. For now he leaves it at that - if the gods are willing, this time, they’ll have time to catch up on everything stretching below that word for both of them. Words like scarred and lonely, sometimes and maybe even a little wiser than I was.
But maybe that is all too maudlin for a quiet beach on a cloudy night.
“I’d hug you if you weren’t soaking wet. Have you always been part mermaid?” He asks her lightly, though there is a more serious question in his eyes, hidden by the darkness in their moon-silver. It’s wondering if she is ok, if there is some particular reason she’s been out taking a dip when the waters must be…invigoratingly cold.
Of course he doesn’t ascribe any other reason to it. For all he’s seen in the last year, nobody expects their friend to become…well, anything else, really, other than what they were.
Which is silly, honestly. August has transformed too, albeit less dramatically. Nothing ever does stay the same. If there’s one lesson the last couple years in Novus have taught him, it’s that.
@Boudika
And then she’s coming toward him, the waves breaking around her belly, then her knees, then her hocks, until they’re standing a few feet apart on the beach, her dripping seawater like a faerie dripping pearls, him trying not to shiver just from looking at her.
Ah, it’s good - he’d forgotten how good - to hear his name said as affectionately as she says it.
“Older,” he says, with a wrinkle of his nose. For now he leaves it at that - if the gods are willing, this time, they’ll have time to catch up on everything stretching below that word for both of them. Words like scarred and lonely, sometimes and maybe even a little wiser than I was.
But maybe that is all too maudlin for a quiet beach on a cloudy night.
“I’d hug you if you weren’t soaking wet. Have you always been part mermaid?” He asks her lightly, though there is a more serious question in his eyes, hidden by the darkness in their moon-silver. It’s wondering if she is ok, if there is some particular reason she’s been out taking a dip when the waters must be…invigoratingly cold.
Of course he doesn’t ascribe any other reason to it. For all he’s seen in the last year, nobody expects their friend to become…well, anything else, really, other than what they were.
Which is silly, honestly. August has transformed too, albeit less dramatically. Nothing ever does stay the same. If there’s one lesson the last couple years in Novus have taught him, it’s that.
@Boudika
August - -
I've got that American meanness;
