Late, late, always late for something.
It’s almost a twisted joke that Kota is even part of this Sanctuary business. Her personality, her general way of thinking serves polar opposite theories. She doesn’t dwell on it though because for some unknown reason some nostalgic thing, some homesick parasite is fed by her loyalty to the Lake-people and she’s always been a glutton for such things.
The beacon is what draws her, for she missed the wave of herd movement that pulled the first load of Hyaline residents Eastward to the Cove. The chilly wind washes over her pale pinkish skin, the sea-mist thick on its currents. She didn’t dislike it at all.
Beqanna writhes and wails, Kota can feel it – she knows vaguely what is happening, enough to know everything is bacteria lava, anyway. She keeps her ribbons of healing light tucked far from strangers, and hardly knows if it would help anyway. She may need it for the Lake-folk, so best not to waste it on anyone else.
Her lip visibly curls when the clicking, slithery, tentacled animal makes its way passed her. It’s unemotional, moving off as if a ghost, making Kota wonder if she really even saw it. The only evidence to it not being a figment is the sharp atmosphere the pale mare walks into – the shards of whatever the thing had said to them before slithering (walking) off. She didn’t question it, but took her place off from the others, letting her crystal-blue eyes fall on the Queen (Kag) n she is familiar with, and secondly the one she is not. “Is anyone here infected?” She asks with a smooth glass voice, direct and without softness. She leaves the question to linger, her gaze drifting from face to face.
It’s almost a twisted joke that Kota is even part of this Sanctuary business. Her personality, her general way of thinking serves polar opposite theories. She doesn’t dwell on it though because for some unknown reason some nostalgic thing, some homesick parasite is fed by her loyalty to the Lake-people and she’s always been a glutton for such things.
The beacon is what draws her, for she missed the wave of herd movement that pulled the first load of Hyaline residents Eastward to the Cove. The chilly wind washes over her pale pinkish skin, the sea-mist thick on its currents. She didn’t dislike it at all.
Beqanna writhes and wails, Kota can feel it – she knows vaguely what is happening, enough to know everything is bacteria lava, anyway. She keeps her ribbons of healing light tucked far from strangers, and hardly knows if it would help anyway. She may need it for the Lake-folk, so best not to waste it on anyone else.
Her lip visibly curls when the clicking, slithery, tentacled animal makes its way passed her. It’s unemotional, moving off as if a ghost, making Kota wonder if she really even saw it. The only evidence to it not being a figment is the sharp atmosphere the pale mare walks into – the shards of whatever the thing had said to them before slithering (walking) off. She didn’t question it, but took her place off from the others, letting her crystal-blue eyes fall on the Queen (Kag) n she is familiar with, and secondly the one she is not. “Is anyone here infected?” She asks with a smooth glass voice, direct and without softness. She leaves the question to linger, her gaze drifting from face to face.
Kota
those great whites,
they have big teeth
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i didn't spell check like at all because im lazy
and im genuinely sorry you have to put up with me
also sorry i late guys 8D
