Rend A Black Drop From My Heart

G

lass Beach. Nimue stood at the center of many pools stationed at this seashore. She stared out at the ocean, her expression emotionless, though one look into her eyes of deep blue would reveal a storm brewing. We always talked about coming here some day, didn't we, Mum?

Never in her life had she witnessed the phenomenon that was the ocean. It was far larger than she could have ever imagined, stretching far beyond the bounds of what they knew or seemingly what they would ever know. She'd always dreamed of it, looked forward to the day she would greet the sea...now that it was here a tidal wave moved within her, similar to the ones she was viewing.

Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw movement and when she turned she simply saw herself in the surface of one of the pools. Ocean water was strange how it didn't quite freeze over in the same way fresh water did. There was something odd about the reflection that made her stare. Nimue was looking at herself, certainly...but it was herself as...a child?

There was a brief moment where her mirrored image looked as though it moved of its own accord, her childhood form leaning in to get a better view before straightening up and turning her head as the sound of a familiar voice danced in the wind from the other side.

"Nimue, darling, what are you looking at?"

Another form came to stand behind the little girl asking her a question. The pup smiled sweetly up at the eternally youthful form of Máiréad, her mother.

"I saw a pretty lady in the puddle, Mummy!"

Nimue's eyes widened, a throbbing pain settling in against her temple as the feeling of déjà vu attempted to split her skull. She'd definitely experienced this once before, but...from the other side of it? She suddenly recalled this memory as a pup when she had stopped at a puddle after a rainstorm to find the image of a woman who looked saddened and far away as though she were lost.

How could she have not known that it was an older version of herself she had seen that day. Ah, but it was impossible! It had to be! "No, no, no..." She began to mutter to herself, shaking her head as she took steps backwards to retreat, only to find herself bumping into another form she had not realized was there.

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

OOC: Thread Title Muse: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IlIRIZSZtuc

His face had fractured into a million shards. To the left lay his cheekbone, to the right rested the side of his ear. Ahead, the underside of his nose, and directly below tender curve of his neck and the carotid artery that beat earnestly within. To the onlooker, he was very much whole, but each tide pool could only a carve a piece from the body. What it held, it seemed to covet. The water sparkled and glittered, casting a faerie-like glamour over the window to this other soul, this alternative self. Never had Victorian seen anything like it. Winter had brought a chill to the Highlands and, with King Adamh feeling comfortable on his throne, the need for a massive force up north had diminished. Victorian had been brought back south and, for that, he was thankful. Highlander anger had helped him grow but he was tired of battling adversity. For once, he wanted to wake up and go on a patrol without burning stares digging into his back. And now he was closer to his sister. "I'll need to bring her here," he murmured, careful to keep his voice low. Another woman was on the beach and he did not want to disturb her. She seemed to be engrossed in her reflection and he knew the look of patented look of focus. Picking his way along the stony shore, he was careful to not disturb any pools -- and to not cut his paws. His eyes were carefully studying the ground when he was suddenly stumbled into, earthen fur bumping against his shoulder and sending his back foot off-balance. Although he recovered before a fall, the flail of his hind paw caused the tender tissue to tear against a barnacle-covered rock and a yelp of pain left his lips. The pain was only accentuated by the salt-water that greedily infiltrated his wound. Biting back tears, amber eyes turned sharply on the woman. For a moment, fire raged there -- though they would quickly quiet from the shocked look upon her face (if one still lingered). His voice was tense as he managed to say: "Are you... alright?" "If the accident will."

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@Nimue

A

s soon as they’d made contact, she whipped around to face the other just in time to see an ebony shape flail backwards nearly falling from the impact. She instinctively lowered herself, and the sharp cry of a yelp from the stranger caused her ears to immediately lay flat against her skull.

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly with shallow breaths, her wide stormborn eyes staring as she took in the form. As the flames of this male’s eyes caught hers, Nimue’s body was willing her to choose between fight or flight. Her gaze flickered to his clearly injured hind paw as she realized he’d injured himself due to her negligence.

She was asked a question, but she barely heard it instead honing in on the injury. Instead of answering him, Nimue moved forward perhaps a bit too quickly, then faltered, gesturing with a tilt of her nose to his paw. “You’ll want to get that out of the water.” She swallowed, wanting to inspect the damage done to his pad, but not wanting to overstep her bounds. “Contrary to popular belief, ocean water is not good for open wounds and you don’t want an infection there, trust me.”

@Victorian

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

Wide, fearful eyes stared up at him. Her nose was a black dot in a sea of cinnamon, her upturned face appearing younger and more panicked than it should have. Earthen ears were pasted against her crown and the tension in her body seemed to be screaming run! The very sight made him feel guilty even though she had been the one to run into him and he bore the injuries to prove it. The reproach he felt settled, unable to thrive off of regret and a girl's fear. Had she been haughty or proud, he would have been able to nurture a healthy grudge. Alas... Her eyes flicked away, gaze zeroing in on his hind paw. Subconsciously, he moved to set it down and conceal the wound. The moment it touched the saltwater in the tide pools, however, a sharp hiss escaped his teeth and he sharply tugged the leg back up. One unknown vulnerability was better than the certain sting of salt. “You’ll want to get that out of the water.” "Gathered that just now, thanks," he managed to grumble through gritted teeth. Inwardly, he admonished himself for choosing sarcasm. Her fault or not, it didn't change that he was a transient cripple surrounded by pools of now-acid. "Oh, I trust you," Victorian breathed, the throbbing in his paw now reaching his ankle. This would set him back a fair number of days with his training. "Ideas on the best trail out of here?" A dark ear flicked and he looked over his shoulder in hopes of catching her eyes. He didn't know the area well and didn't fancy turning around. He'd gone a fair distance and the thought of hobbling that far was... inconvenient at best. "If the accident will."

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@Nimue

A

spark glinted in her eye at his response and she began to relax. The man's sarcasm was blatant and a language Nimue had become fluent in. "You're quite welcome. 'Tis the least I could do for wounding a fearsome warrior like yourself." She grinned, ear to ear, as a fox might, eyebrow quirking as though to challenge the brute to a duel of word and wit.

Tall legs moved around him, careful not to bump him any further on his large, clumsy feet as she moved to a collection of rocks sharpened by the tide. Avoiding the barnacles altogether, she trotted around to one side and began to strip long strands of slippery seaweed, setting them on top of one of the boulders. She eyed him from where she was working and once she'd finished, she smirked.

"Glad you trust me then. I was beginning to worry I might have to hold you down to treat that nasty cut. Come, follow me." Nimue picked up her harvest and padded up the shore until they were out of the water. She dropped the kelp and ran a tongue over her maw, trying to rid the gooey sensation and salted taste from her mouth momentarily.

Patting a spot next to her, she waited for him to join her if he would and then glanced around as he questioned the way out. "Your guess is as good as mine...I've only just arrived and fortunately for the both of us, I've never been here. Just means we get to spend more time together. Oh, goody..."

@Victorian

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

At the use of fearsome warrior, Victorian couldn't help but roll his eyes slightly and scoff. The exaggeration was like salt in the wound of his ego—and although it hurt less than his paw, it had its own unique ache. He could swear up and down that it was all an accident, but colonels and lieutenants rarely cared about excuses. The truth of the matter was that this fearsome warrior would be benched for a week or so until the wound healed. He wouldn't even be able to visit Florence. The realization hit him and he frowned, the sarcasm fading as a moment's sadness softened his gaze. He was distracted only by her nimbly paving a path to one of the boulders, her paws and teeth expertly stripping it of the seaweed that had taken root in its crevices. The soldier couldn't help but blink and quirk a brow. Blue eyes seemed to savor his shock and revel in it, for the woman was offered a light little challenge in response. "Oh no, I've learned not to fight you," he said rather dryly, almost amused despite the throbbing in his paw. "I don't think I could make it walking on my forepaws alone." The threat of becoming a two-legged cripple was real when she was around. Wary and still eying the green waterplants she carried, Victorian began to make his way. He was slower now, overly careful to not have a repeat casualty. Every toe was safe by the time he arrived, and she was working her jaw as if to rid her tongue of slime. At this, he couldn't help but chuckle—first he tried to hide it but then he gave up. "Delightful," Victorian commented when his laughs silenced and he hobbled to the spot beside her. "I was wondering how to waste a perfectly good day." Since when had he been so sassy? With her, it was like she pulled it out of him. That last line, though, he felt was perhaps a little too far. Turning his head to look at her, he twitched his ears and offered a lopsided, hopeful smile. "Thank you, though. Unless I lose the foot—but for now, thank you." "If the accident will."

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@Nimue

T

he corner of her mouth twitched until she relented to a smirk at the list to accompany his chuckling, if only to let him know that he could not offend her in the slightest. “I can assure you, sir, the only way to waste a perfectly good day is by not acquainting yourself with a complete stranger. Now, if you would please.”

Nimue gestured for him to offer up his hind paw on an outstretched leg so that she might get to work on the jagged laceration left behind by the barnacle-laden rock. If he did so with no argument, she’d move closer to eye the open cut, brushing away at any grime that danced along its edges. She also took care to wipe the side of the seaweed that would rest against it clean of debris as well.

Focus on this work had removed her from conversation, allowing the crashing of the waves at the shore nearby to provide a soothing aesthetic amid their silence. She did hear his expression of gratitude, nodding briefly as she wrapped the viscous leaves around his paw and pressed them lightly to fit the mold of his pad.

”Unfortunately…for the rest of us, it appears you’ll live.” Nimue provided her diagnosis, inspired by the comment of losing his foot. “The seaweed should dry well enough to form a bandage to protect it. You will need to keep it clean to avoid infection though. That is what will lose you a limb.” Looking up at the male, studying his features to better store them in her memory. “What do they call you? Aside from ‘clumsy git’.” She teased with a sly smile.

@Victorian

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

It seemed as though he had not wasted many days, then. Since entering Rionnach, Victorian and his sister had been overrun with a deluge of strange customs, wolves, and roles. Their idylistic life out in the pine forest over yonder had woefully underprepared them for this nationalistic life. Now they paid taxes—or would have if not for his service in the military. A life of duty was not one that his parents had ever envisioned for him, and yet it was in his makeup to follow orders and fall into line. Little did he know that his father had done the same in his youth, only to escape the cycle in his twilight years. Was Victorian doomed to do the same? He winced as she brushed away the grime. The cold air poked and prodded at the red flesh that had been left bare by the barnacles. His teeth gritted and he did his best to stay still, to not jerk too much as she got to work. Thankfully, the leaves were like a second skin. The soothing sensation of the poultice brought some small comforts and he glanced back at her, amber eyes unable to conceal his gratitude. Her comment seemed to brush it aside, but he thought he saw something akin to warmth in blue eyes. Victorian only offer a half-smile in return. Her directions were clear and he nodded his head. At her request of his name, he couldn't help but snort. "Clumsy git the second," was his remark, dark ears twitching. Nimue did not know that his mother had been blind, but it amused him well enough. "Victorian is my name though in all seriousness." His expression softened somewhat. "And what about you, 'pusher of innocents into sharp rocks'?" "If the accident will."

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@Nimue

S

he snorted with his initial introduction. “The second?” Nimue gasped dramatically, placing a paw against her chest. “Then I pray for my successors that they are spared of Clumsy Git the Third.” He did actually give his name in the end, surprisingly.

“I have been called worse.” The shaman gave him an extravagant bow as a noble might expect from her and when she rose to her full height, she lifted her chin even higher. “Nimue is my name and despite the insults, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Victorian. Now, do you need me to attempt to carry you the rest of the way off the beach?”

Nim’s lip peeled back in a toothy grin as she sought to dig further beneath his skin. “I’m not quite sure I’ve the strength to bear the weight of your lard ass, though I’m willing to try for first impression’s sake.”

@Victorian

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

Victorian's lips quirked at her pseudo-horror over "Clumsy Git the Third". He was not half so old as to have a child upon which to give the moniker, but he'd keep it in mind should he be so lucky. Perhaps one day he'd find someone to settle down with, but it was not a priority yet. Another time, maybe once his sister had graduated from her studies he'd even consider the possibility of such a thing. For now it was just a fancy that hardly crossed his mind. She introduced herself, lighthearted jabs aside, and asked whether she'd have to carry him across the beach. At this, Victorian couldn't help but snort. He would not doubt her strength but this was a tall order, and he'd expect at least a wolf that was perhaps twice his size to undergo such strain. "No worries at all," he responded though a dark ear twitched and he narrowed his eyes slightly at the barb of "lard ass". Even still, his glare didn't have any heat to it, just a teasing warning. "Careful or I'll fall on you," he threatened as he began to test his weight. Whatever she had done had concealed the wound and stopped the breeze from stinging it. Perhaps he'd make it back home, even, albeit with some frequent stops. - exit victorian via amicable parting -

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@Nimue