[P] seashells by the sea shore [summer]

[Ambrose]

I will find my way, I can go the distance
I'll be there someday, if I can be strong

A

nother season, another festival that Diana has insisted on exploring. This one is in Denocte, where I have never been before (though, if I remember correctly, they had helped hold the one in Delumine where I had gotten lost. Perhaps they simply enjoy throwing parties, Denoctians). I’d much rather be in their library—somewhere quiet, where I can sit with a good book and learn something new.

Instead I find myself on their beaches, alone. Diana has wandered off, probably to do something exciting, or dangerous (or both). I’m not really interested in looking for seashells, but it is the quietest event I could find among the ones being offered. Equines carefully scouring through the sands for their special treasures. I don’t blame them for wanting to do it, it just seems… childish.

The irony.

I’m making my way up the shore, closer to where the sand castle are being built—something you cannot do back home, with the dry Solterran sand—when I hear the girl talking aloud about where the shells come from. Or rather why they are different, I suppose.

I realize she is not talking to me exactly, but it’s as though the chance to share random knowledge is something neither my brain nor my mouth can pass up. I pause and look over her shoulder at the few sells she has collected, and clear my throat self-consciously. “The shape depends on what type of mollusk used to live inside it,” my voice is quiet, but certain.

“Uh,” I quickly back out of the conversation, my double pair of wings pressing taut to my sides as if they could simply hide me with their absurd amount of feathers. “Sorry for bothering you, though, I’m not here to look I just heard you talking is all and…” I’m not really sure what I’ve gotten myself into.

{ @Maeve "speaks" notes:  }

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