[ P ] Breathe

Is ait an mac an saol -
Life is strange.

It was not often that Blythe strayed far from her home, nestled in the foothills of Tir Na Nog. There, she knew every boulder, every outcropping of granite, all of the trees. She knew where her children were, and could assure their safety there. But today, Blythe was alone, intentionally so. She had left her sons at their home and ventured off on her own. It was a rare occasion indeed that the silver wolfess felt inclined to travel, and Inverness was not far from her desired destination. She had left at morning’s first light, and intended to return before dusk.

Today, she was not Blythe the mother. Blythe the provider. She was simply Blythe. As Tir Na Nog loomed further and further behind in the distance, she felt lighter, and she breathed in the scents of the wintry territory. Soon, the smell of salty air, that incomparable scent of the ocean, greeted her senses, and she unconsciously hurried in its direction.

Soon, the vast sea spread out before her like a work of art, and she stopped on a sandy dune to appreciate the sight. Aberdeen was a beautiful sight to behold, and Blythe allowed herself a moment of relaxation beneath the azure sky. She thought of her sons, and how much they would have enjoyed it, as well, but today was just for Blythe. She could not recall the last time she had been away, but the ocean made the she-wolf feel lighter.

The sea salt breeze obscured the scents of others who may have been nearby, and Blythe’s attention remained on the crashing waves as they rolled ashore, then back out, like breathing. She remarked, for her own benefit, "I must come to this place more frequently. It is beautiful beyond comparison."


@Black

Push and pull. Croons and crashes. The waves were gentle and calling like sirens. Her breath expelled in plumes of carbon as she sat just out of the water’s reach. It begged to lip at her toes, but she wouldn’t allow it. Seaglass eyes watched as the ocean spoke, and she sucked in a deep, long breath, closing her eyes as her chin elevated slightly. So much had happened in her absence, that much she was sure. She had yet to go see Caspian, or sell her wares. Upon arriving back into town, she did one thing first: sit at the ocean side.

The water always called to her, and being away so long was difficult, but manageable. However, sharing this moment wasn’t something she intended to do, but it didn’t strike her one way or the other either. Not even an ear twitched as the voice of another sounded in unison with the waves melody. Her eyes finally opened, her maw rotating back down to parallel, then her attention moved to the brighter woman.

Black’s visage was emotionless, void of expression, perhaps maybe even a stern stoic wash. She observed the woman before she’d speak.
"Hello."
It had been some time since she had spoken to another. She was out for so long, her body having acquired new scars and gashes, wounds and scrapes. Some fresh, some half way healed, some old. Her face wore a decent slash across her cheek which was newer from taking down a badger.
"It is."
She nodded, then let her bright eyes fall back to the water’s surface.

Is ait an mac an saol -
Life is strange.

The sight of an unknown ebony form seemed to catch the silver wolfess off-guard; bright eyes grew wide with sudden distress, and she resisted the urge to flee. It had been over a year since her husband, a disturbing wolf of the darkest night, had passed, but the memories of their blessedly brief time together still haunted the she-wolf. Now, with few exceptions, the sight of a black wolf still caused her to feel that same terror he had inspired during their union. She shook her head, amber eyes squinting as she took in the sight of the other, who she could now deduce was another female. Blythe reminded herself internally, as she often must, It cannot be him, for he is dead and buried.


Several moments had passed before Blythe realized she had said nothing, and she cleared her throat, forcing a smile onto her pale muzzle. ”Well met,” she lied, hoping that at least the stranger had not detected her discomfort. Blythe was grateful that this black wolf was at least female. The dark stranger’s unique scent was masked by the sea and the salt – or, perhaps more accurately, it was the scents she shared with her homelands, or so Blythe guessed. ”Do you live here? It must be a beautiful place to call home,” she offered. ”Difficult, though – or so I have heard.”

@Black

The stranger spoke with manners, and as ever diplomatic as Black was, she appreciated it. Not the usual grunt and gruff from others in greeting, but this initial hello was delightful. Pleasing, in a way Black couldn’t actually express. However, she didn’t look at the woman as she continued their meeting, and asked the abyssal woman a few ice breakers. Black could all but nod, one motion summing up her answer in full.

Gulls overhead cawed, the ocean whispered sweetly to them, the Seafarer allowing for the silence to coat them in a most awkward fashion. But the girl was often so, silent and still, stoic and calm. Like the sea on a still night, with high tide and pitch hues. She meant no harm, she meant no ill will, she was just … well. Odd.
"You?"
She asked fluidly, finally allowing seaglass eyes to shift to the pale woman, firing back the same question just in a much shorter, to the point kind of execution.