ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤunprompted | always accepting | @kaireios said ...
kaire swam back faster than he should have — tail slicing water, lungs burning, brain still echoing with whatever he'd just seen out past the trench. he didn't speak when he found her. didn't give his usual grin or flick saltwater their way in greeting. instead, he surfaced slow, just enough for breath & contact.
he leaned in. not rushed — weighted. his forehead met theirs like a question he didn't know how to ask, his breath unsteady & warm between them. " there's something out there, " he murmured. " it looked at me like it knew my name. "
he didn't elaborate. didn't need to. the truth was still settling in the water behind him like stirred silt — murky & half - formed. what mattered now was this : a living, familiar body, firm against his own. something warm & steady in the dark. he stayed there, forehead pressed to hers, hands braced lightly on her arms.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤjust enough pressure to say : anchor me here a minute.
With care, did she wade the shallows ; not enough to dampen too much of her pelt, and flight feathers, but enough for talons to soak in the salt of the sea. This was the first time, in a LONG TIME, that other Mer and the Sirens did not harass her. What changed, she could not have guessed. They did not care of Oracles, from petty, lower races - certainly not. Perhaps it was something said. Something threatened. For, no matter how innocent merfolk could seem, could come across ... just as anything else, in Otraybia, they were dangerous.
Drops of lapping water slip from her claws, so easily, and rejoin the greater body, but ah, such a meaningless distraction cannot last long. The speed at which he swims, is enough to have her ears raised high, looking to the skies, and to the sides that surround her - but then he speaks. Something, in the water ... She could not dive, with lungs adapted to land, and eyes, adapted to air, to see what sort of fright would lie beneath the waves. It looked at me, like it knew my name.
From only he, did she know of Deep - Sea Folk, and the fright they had wrought 'pon Mer that swam closer to the surface. 'neath the Twilight Zone, came ... darkness. Mystery. Horror. She does not push, nor ask questions. Damp of his forehead, meets her own dry, wild mane of hair soaking whatever water it could in. She'd need a bath later, but that was far from her concern. Limbs are tentative, but they come to tug him a bit closer, claws gentle along his scalp. Whatever was out there, couldn't hurt him, here.
❝ You're alright ... ❞ She assures softly, petting through is hair, down to the nape of his neck. She can do no more, than assure, than bring hope that what lie just beyond, was not a violent thing. ❝ ... Would you like me to stay, tonight ..? And you can stay in the shallows ..? ❞
An anchor ... what more could she ever be ? Weighted, and steady, even. Made of iron and steel, even if such had been no more than a façade. Whatever it took ; whatever means of safety, of security, she could provide - she would do so without so much as a flinch.
