write about her and water!
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She is not afraid. Iðunn tells herself that. She shouts it to herself when she falters, frustration written clearly in her countenance. She teeters on the precipice between land and sea; on the shoreline, she stands just out of the reach of the waves licking the sand, rooted to the earth underfoot —— one more step is all it would take, and she’s not scared, but she remains motionless as if she were, staring anxiously towards the vast unknown.
She isn’t scared of drowning. Death, after all, she knows quite intimately... They are colleagues in a circle of life, death and rebirth. Yet the moment she releases her hold of the earth, the moment she is consumed by the water, she becomes weightless... She loses her divinity and becomes but a tiny speck in the ocean’s depths. Inconsequential. Small. On the land, she knows herself. In the water, she does not. In the water, she is vulnerable. And she hates it.