Day after day, at twilight, she slipped from the water and waited in the same place. The shoreline where they first met.
She recognized it was a foolish endeavor. Made more foolish each evening that passed. Leto was gone, deep or far or both into the sea, where there was no way Anandi could track or find her. She could either comb the ocean, a task she did not have the time for, or she could keep returning to the last place they met and hope-- hope in a withering way, hope despite reason-- that Leto would return.
So she kept returning, and the frantic yearning kept growing in the pit of her stomach, and each evening she was entirely alone with the tattered shoreline. She quickly learned the tides and how they changed with the hour. The ocean was fickle here. Sometimes the waves crashed huge and angry, other times the sea was near flat and slick as a mirror. There was no in between.
It was one of those mirror evenings. The sea was a passive, adoring reflection of the sky, pink-purple brilliance, when then the illusion was shattered with a quiet splash and a race of ripples.
Leto.
Anandi clamors to her feet, but makes herself walk slowly to the edge of the water. No visible sign at all of eagerness-- but of course, she is here, and no amount of cool could hide the plainspun facts of the situation. She was clearly waiting.
“Hello stranger.” Her words have a forced casualness, a palpable strain. Leto hurt Anandi by vanishing as she had. Worse, she offended her. But beneath her terse words, there is nervous excitement. She felt absolutely horrible after making Leto and so quickly losing her. It was a failure on her behalf, and she felt more monstrous than ever before. Leto was her sister now. And as enraged and offended as Anandi was, her heart would always hold a weakness for the other mare. “I’ve missed you,” she admits, and steps closer to press her lips to the other woman’s neck, near her cheek.
She inhales warm salty air. The scent of a wild thing, tumbled in the ocean until the sand scrubbed her into something new. Something new and fresh and wild--
But, see-- Leto was not free.
Leto was hers. It was very important that Anandi established this. But she had to be very careful about it, so as not to push the other mare too far. If she did not bow to her maker, she might as well be an enemy. And Andi did not want to make an enemy of a sister. “Tell me about where you’ve been.” She nips softly on the bare neck she had just kissed. Soft as a kelpie. She wanted to know: exactly how thick was Leto’s skin?
is better than none
A N A N D I
@Leto ugh I'm in that ~mood~ where words feel like total garbage, but... this is overdue, so I hope it works <3
some say the loving and the devouring are all the same thing
☾
