“The sea will not always love you, Anandi. Perhaps this is practice for the day you are betrayed.”
The statement brought an unexpected heat to the young mare’s cheeks, an angry flush bolstered by a low snarl of displeasure. It was not just the words themselves but the way they were said. The arrogance.
“You don’t know that, Boudika. Don’t sound so certain.”
Because there was a clear difference between them, a divide that could be acknowledged but never resolved. Anandi never had that memory of meeting the sea for the first time. She had always known the ocean. For the first three years of her life it was her entire universe, as present and unquestionable as the sun and stars and moon were to horses. As infinite and as constant as the sky.
The difference between them is that Anandi was born and Boudika was made. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but it was the hand that each woman was dealt. There is a natural hierarchy, an order, and nothing would ever change the fact that Anandi was born on top.
Despite the self-assurance with which it was spoken, the ominous statement seemed ignorant and foolish to Anandi, as stupid as telling a Solterran that one day the sun would not rise. It seemed impossible to believe, but in some small way it scared her, too, for it spoke to a deep dark part of Anandi that was convinced she was unlovable.
All this she is thinking of behind a pretty little scowl as they step closer to the edge of the cliff. The seed of doubt has been planted. And when Boudika says “myself,” the word rising against the howl of the briny gale and the slap of ocean spray, it does not entirely come as a surprise. Boudika, oh, Boudika. What have you done? Anandi huffs, determined to appear indifferent while a monster howls in her chest with a loss she has no right to claim.
Boudika was hers
No-- it was far worse than that-- She wanted Boudika to be hers.
What was it that drove this sense of possession? Was it instinct, Kelpie, or some personality flaw? Perhaps it was fate being cruel, as it is. Tempting, tempting, never giving. Agonizing. She wanted the word and she had-- she always had-- nothing. Nothing but the skin on her back and the sea which she only now considers in a different light. It terrifies her to think of falling out of favor with the ocean-mother. It infuriates her to think of losing what little grip she has on the fickle landwalkers of Novus. It breaks her little twisted heart.
Anandi almost says “you know, you were the first one in Novus to show me kindness...” but instead she leaps into the ocean. She’s grown tired of talking-- of late her words have seemed ineffective anyway, not just with Boudika but others too. Her personal philosophy (strategy?) of give one complement and receive two in return had begun to fail. It was time for new strategies, and until she had the time to properly mull this over she would have to rely instead on instinct.
Everything is better the instant they are underwater, not least of all because the fury of the swell was far simpler to navigate than conversation. Her forelegs tuck into her chest so she can propel forward; her tail, strong and serpentine, lashes with satisfaction against the water. It was so satisfying to do the things one was built to do, doubly so to do it with another.
When they pass the worst of the ocean’s rage, the world is enchantingly still, borderline ethereal. They float, suspended in the gentle push and pull of the current. When lightning strikes its fury is softened by the sea’s embrace and spread gently through the water, illuminating the two kelpies in flashes of blue-white.
Anandi is stronger here, emboldened by her natural environment. When Boudika asks “And what if you had changed me?” It doesn’t seem worth thinking about, let along discussing. “Maybe nothing. We’ll never know.” She shrugs, resigned.
“Stay with me tonight, Boudika. The hunt is better shared.” Anandi doesn’t have the heart to warm the words, to twist and enliven them. She turns and swims into the deep, and she does not look back.
A N A N D I
"Please,” she said, “you’re so beautiful. You may eat me if you like.
I’d sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else."
The statement brought an unexpected heat to the young mare’s cheeks, an angry flush bolstered by a low snarl of displeasure. It was not just the words themselves but the way they were said. The arrogance.
“You don’t know that, Boudika. Don’t sound so certain.”
Because there was a clear difference between them, a divide that could be acknowledged but never resolved. Anandi never had that memory of meeting the sea for the first time. She had always known the ocean. For the first three years of her life it was her entire universe, as present and unquestionable as the sun and stars and moon were to horses. As infinite and as constant as the sky.
The difference between them is that Anandi was born and Boudika was made. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but it was the hand that each woman was dealt. There is a natural hierarchy, an order, and nothing would ever change the fact that Anandi was born on top.
Despite the self-assurance with which it was spoken, the ominous statement seemed ignorant and foolish to Anandi, as stupid as telling a Solterran that one day the sun would not rise. It seemed impossible to believe, but in some small way it scared her, too, for it spoke to a deep dark part of Anandi that was convinced she was unlovable.
All this she is thinking of behind a pretty little scowl as they step closer to the edge of the cliff. The seed of doubt has been planted. And when Boudika says “myself,” the word rising against the howl of the briny gale and the slap of ocean spray, it does not entirely come as a surprise. Boudika, oh, Boudika. What have you done? Anandi huffs, determined to appear indifferent while a monster howls in her chest with a loss she has no right to claim.
Boudika was hers
No-- it was far worse than that-- She wanted Boudika to be hers.
What was it that drove this sense of possession? Was it instinct, Kelpie, or some personality flaw? Perhaps it was fate being cruel, as it is. Tempting, tempting, never giving. Agonizing. She wanted the word and she had-- she always had-- nothing. Nothing but the skin on her back and the sea which she only now considers in a different light. It terrifies her to think of falling out of favor with the ocean-mother. It infuriates her to think of losing what little grip she has on the fickle landwalkers of Novus. It breaks her little twisted heart.
Anandi almost says “you know, you were the first one in Novus to show me kindness...” but instead she leaps into the ocean. She’s grown tired of talking-- of late her words have seemed ineffective anyway, not just with Boudika but others too. Her personal philosophy (strategy?) of give one complement and receive two in return had begun to fail. It was time for new strategies, and until she had the time to properly mull this over she would have to rely instead on instinct.
Everything is better the instant they are underwater, not least of all because the fury of the swell was far simpler to navigate than conversation. Her forelegs tuck into her chest so she can propel forward; her tail, strong and serpentine, lashes with satisfaction against the water. It was so satisfying to do the things one was built to do, doubly so to do it with another.
When they pass the worst of the ocean’s rage, the world is enchantingly still, borderline ethereal. They float, suspended in the gentle push and pull of the current. When lightning strikes its fury is softened by the sea’s embrace and spread gently through the water, illuminating the two kelpies in flashes of blue-white.
Anandi is stronger here, emboldened by her natural environment. When Boudika asks “And what if you had changed me?” It doesn’t seem worth thinking about, let along discussing. “Maybe nothing. We’ll never know.” She shrugs, resigned.
“Stay with me tonight, Boudika. The hunt is better shared.” Anandi doesn’t have the heart to warm the words, to twist and enliven them. She turns and swims into the deep, and she does not look back.
"Please,” she said, “you’re so beautiful. You may eat me if you like.
I’d sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else."
@Boudika a closer. Thank you so much for this thread, it was delightful as always! <3
some say the loving and the devouring are all the same thing
☾
