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

[Oceane]

oceane

at me, the sea withdrew

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Almost immediately, the opaline pegasi finds a warmth in Aquaria's company. Her easy, excited smile coaxes a similar expression from the Loessian mare and she finds that there's hardly an opportunity for awkward small talk when her newest acquaintance could most aptly be described as sprightly and vivacious.

They settle in beside each other, sea pearl and avian opal, to hide from the wind as if they are old friends out for a lunch date. Aquaria smells of saltwater and sand, two scents that Oceane holds dear in her heart, but her thoughts on this are left behind as her own light laughter follows swiftly behind the finned woman's contagious bout. She grins at her company's humor and turns an amused side-eye towards her.

"I, too, am a sea-sonal follower of politics," she quips happily, and her playful grin remains even as she falls silent to listen to Aquaria's question with a swiveled ear. She shakes her head in response, violet forelock coiffed by the subtle breeze that still finds its way into their arbor. "I don't, though I find myself here quite often. I actually live in Loess."

At the mention of her foothills home, Oceane's playful grin turns into something laced with pride. She'd taken up residence under Castile's capable eye over a year ago and each day has brought her a new adventure. Almost subconsciously, she adjusts the wings at her side to caress them against her unborn.

"As a self-proclaimed beach bum, is it Ischia you call home?" Ischia. The name of the island nation increases the sourness that roils in the depths of her belly and she tries her best to push the memories of Ivar down, down down.

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@[Aquaria]
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