[private] for the call of the running tide

[Oceane]

for the call of the running tide

"No," she says succinctly, both to his question concerning the reef and his offer to teach her to swim with the whales. It's a loaded promise and a gentle (unneeded) reminder that he could just as easily tell her to drown herself in the beautifully crystalline waters off the coast of his small isle as he had to stand still, be quiet. Oceane flicks her ears backwards, hiding them in a nest of violet wind-strewn mane as the painted stallion's warm muzzle continues its breathy path down the stripes at her neck.

Despite the outward display of irritation, and the seemingly-contented stretching of her feathered wings, fear still exudes from Oceane's pores as if she has decided to wear it as her perfume for the day. It turns her blood cold, pumping it full of adrenaline as the kelpie suddenly sports a scowl; it's handsome despite everything, and she can't help but think this as her heart threatens to remove itself from her chest should the stallion turn that scowl on her.

Just as swiftly, though, it becomes a grin again. She has amused him, if only for the time being, and Oceane's primal instincts of self-preservation thank her for that. She lets loose a long, slow sigh from the cavern of her chest and uses it in an attempt to ground herself in the moments that the painted sapphire predator lingers with his muzzle at her cheek, whispering amusements in her ear the way one would a lover.

Little explorer, he calls her, and had it come from a true lover she may have found an attachment to it. But, as it were, the condescension with which it is said draws a frown against the woman's purple lips. In no position to use her fear-slash-irritation to rebut his statement, Oceane turns her molten amber eyes to meet his head-on instead and uses the opportunity to stare him down as - finally - he retracts his touch from her.

And then, just a moment later - tap.

Her mind empties of all the unpleasantries, her ears remove themselves from their hiding spot within her tousled mane. And, despite the confusion that now muddles her mind, Oceane settles more comfortably in front of Ivar, who has just introduced himself with what is, perhaps, the most handsome smile Oceane has ever had the pleasure of having directed at her.

Her previously taut muscles relax, albeit hesitantly, and her frown slowly shifts into a coquettish-type smile as she folds beneath whatever charm Ivar has lain on her. "A pleasure, Ivar," the opalescent pegasi says slowly, breathily, "My name is Oceane." Her ears flutter as he mentions Loess and she nods warmly in affirmation. "We should leave now, before it gets too late." Noting that he is not equipped with wings, Oceane ensures that hers are pressed tight to her sides as she pivots to face the water again, ready to journey on foot to Loess whenever he is.

She does take a second, however, to ponder over when she'd mentioned Loess to her new companion, or why she would suddenly feel an odd mixture of fear and irritation whenever she caught his scent in the breeze.

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@[Ivar] | speech