http://roadtothesky.insanejournal.com/ (
roadtothesky.insanejournal.com) wrote in
sabra_la_antiqua2012-01-25 10:38 pm
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Who: A small Pavo
Where: The Delphinian shoreline, close to one of the smaller villages outside the capitol
When: Year 192, spring
What: The wind, the stars, the waves
[The moons are almost full tonight, rising together and casting purple shadows across the sands. The stars are bright and clear, the wind gentle enough that the waves of the incoming tide are small and barely capped with white.
The last of the fishing boats has been drawn in, the night is almost quiet . . . and small footsteps make their way down to the beach.]
Where: The Delphinian shoreline, close to one of the smaller villages outside the capitol
When: Year 192, spring
What: The wind, the stars, the waves
[The moons are almost full tonight, rising together and casting purple shadows across the sands. The stars are bright and clear, the wind gentle enough that the waves of the incoming tide are small and barely capped with white.
The last of the fishing boats has been drawn in, the night is almost quiet . . . and small footsteps make their way down to the beach.]
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. . . where she sits is really shallow though, and something about those steps . . . she waits, arms still outstretched, and listens.]
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. . . is the water too shallow?
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The depth is irrelevant.
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Her arms drop a bit with each incoming wave, fingers curling back into loose, restrained fists.]
I guess . . . I'm the only one things like that matter to.
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You will freeze.
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This . . . isn't 'home' to me.
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"Home" is a place of your choosing.
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Where's your home?
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I have not chosen one.
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. . . will I see you again?
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I don't know.
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The words are faint, fading in and out, and almost certainly unconscious.
So . . . no, then.]
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This troubles you?]
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That . . . it isn't your underwater voice?
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No, it is not.]
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[Looking around him . . . ahhhh tail.]
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'How'? That is something I would like to know as well...]
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[Tail tail taiiiiiil, staring in rapt fascination, tracing it with her eyes.]
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There is talking... [...And there is something else.]
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Like . . . sound without noise.
But how do you know you're talking if you don't know how?
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Do you know how to will your heart to beat, child? Yet it beats all the same.]
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