[private] She sells seashells by the sea shore // Oceane

[Oceane]

oceane

at me, the sea withdrew

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Oceane had left Kensley at the shoreline where the river delta purges itself into the dark and churning sea. Their conversation had been pleasant and the scenery beautiful if one observed it long enough (what really piqued her interest, though, was the sea's ability to roil and rock throughout the winter months, never once hardening beneath the chill), but despite the seasonal shag in her coat, the winds had chilled her to the marrow in her bones.

So the opalescent woman took leave of her new acquaintance and found cover beneath pine branches, her nostrils flaring in appreciation for the woodsy scent of them as they drag across her skin. As she continues to follow the river inland, Oceane searches - though she's unsure for what. Something to catch her attention, whether it's simply foliage or equine or entirely unexpected, she's in the mood for intrigue today.

A small wooden hovel catches her attention; gnarled branches entwined, it creates a small half-dome by the river bend and offers additional reprieve from the winter squall. Oceane murmurs appreciatively, tightens her massive feathered wings to her rounded violet sides, and presses herself beneath the natural shield and watches the relentless river for a time.

She is not alone with her thoughts for long: a flash of amber champagne, first believed to be imagined but then there it is again, draws Oceane's bright amber eyes. She smiles in surprise at the realization that it is a finned woman who bobs on the surface (though there is still a sourness that coils in her stomach at the idea of water-horses, and she double checks that she is just far enough away from the sodden bank to avoid being dragged beneath the surface of the tumultuous current); her gaze follows the skilled swimmer until her nereid frame crawls gracefully forth.

The woman's webbed mane and tail draw a hum of appreciation from the opaline woman. Her polite scrutiny of the stranger's physical appearance is short-lived, and her attention is turned to meet the woman's blue-violet eyes as she introduces herself. "Not at all," Oceane responds without hesitation and sidesteps to ensure they can both fit comfortably beneath the pine cupola and away from the icy breeze.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Aquaria. I am Oceane." She adjusts the wings at her sides to better warm the distended belly she hides beneath them. "Do you live in these waters?" she asks without preamble, a glint of curiosity alight in her deep gold eyes.

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@[Aquaria]
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