Slipping Beneath the Sound

The druid had risen early this morning, peeling herself from the sleeping @Wake's side to venture out into the world and seek what yearned to be discovered. Truly, this world was an interesting place, from the crumbling ruins of those that had come before them to a new and undiscovered island where one had not been before. The barren island that gave them shelter had been alone in its bay and now... 

Now, the patchwork woman stared across the landbridge that the low tide had uncovered at an island that had seemingly appeared overnight. Its lush shores called to her and Esmerelda would answer them, fearlessly stepping into the water to cross the sands and venture to this new land.

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For @Wake and maybe @Yara too?!

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Perhaps the druid should have expected company but she was so distracted by the appearance of this new land that the call to draw her attention surprised her, feminine head swinging around to peer at who dare disturb —

A small smile formed, silvery tail waving fluidly as she stood in the inches deep water, waiting for the woman to close that distance. She would not be deterred from her exploration this day, the land beckoning her, calling her name in a way could not be explained with words. Either you knew the feeling or you did not, and if you did not, then you would never know.

“This island,” She spoke when Wake drew closer. “It was not there yesterday.” Water rippled as she began walking across the natural bridge again, careful to not miss a step and tumble into deeper waters. “Care to join me, amante?”

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The woman's answer was rewarded with a pleased hum, and Esmerelda leaned in to nip at the base of her neck, an attempt to give Wake a physical jolt to help wake her up. They would need to be on their guard if they were going to explore a land that had appeared from nothing. Or so it seemed, anyway.

“Indeed. It might be a good spot to have nearby if we are to remain in place.” An indication that she was not yet prepared to move on from Wake's side in any permanent fashion. Still, a place to hunt, a place to hide caches and find herbs was no small blessing. If they were to stay here, upon their rock, any significant amount of time, then all of the aforementioned things would be a boon unto them all.

“I have not yet met this Yara you spoke of,” She stated as they closed in on the shore, the white sands soft and supple beneath her paws. Pausing here, the woman flexed her toes upon the drier, colder sand, humming in thought before she looked left, then right. “Choose our path?”

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I hope this is vague enough for her to cut in! I assume Wake and Yara exchanged names and Yara probably mentioned potentially settling/offered companionship to Wake should she stick around too. <3

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Although she had not yet explored the majority of her surroundings, Yara was almost certain this neighboring island had not been visible on her previous treks across Raven Rock. She was too bewildered to question the origin or meaning, instead choosing to investigate, Crow sitting contentedly upon her shoulder.

Her companion had been doing some adventuring of their own apart from Yara. She had found that in the bird's absence she missed the random squawks and pecking at her fur. Her misshapen braids had almost entirely unraveled free, and Crow was already plucking at stray pieces of fur in order to perfect their work. It was a dull, prickly pressure at the back of her neck as she padded along the beach opposite the one she had crash-landed on.

It was livelier here. Greener, in all aspects, with trees that densely overpacked the hills behind the shoreline. The outline of Raven Rock was still visible from the coast, a dark twin.

Yara was standing with her back to the ocean when she heard the lull of a familiar tune. A voice she recalled as —

"Wake?" Her call was uttered as she swiveled, surprised to spot the friendly face only days after meeting her before. She was flanked by another girl, paler, pretty all the same. A pair of sirens wading across the space between two landmarks. Stepping forward, her ears fanned back, tail just barely relaxing at her ankles. Approachable. Patient.

Crow, however, took to usual habits and flailed against her spine. Each flap of their wings implied questions.

Who? Flap. Who? Flap. Who?

"Amiga de Yara!" — "Friend of Yara!" Crow screeched, dancing atop her shoulder. Yara groaned.

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Gonna try and keep it short bc group thread lololol <3

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As if some odd stroke of coincidence was painted across the canvas of their day, a call of her lover's name making the druid swing her head around in a sharp movement, as if she would cast a hex upon whoever it was that would dare encroach upon their peaceful morning exploration together. These feelings were quickly masked behind an expression of inquisitiveness, instead stepping closer to the grey-furred woman, shoulder pressing lightly against Wake's own.

Half-bristled hackles settled down as Wake introduced them, ears pitching forwards a touch as she looked from Yara to the bird upon her shoulder, surprised that the creature knew a language that sounded similar to her own. “Falas português? — You speak Portuguese?” Whether the question was to Yara or to the bird, no one could be quite sure, but Esme would have been satisfied with an answer from either.

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Their meeting was brief, something Esmerelda was actually pleased with; she had not been expecting the woman to appear at the mere mention of her name, and while she was a morning creature in certain cases, she had not been ready to be around others. Wake was, of course, her "certain case", so when it was just the two of them once more, the merle-marked druid was sure to step close and gently nudge that soft shoulder that had been her pillow less than an hour ago.

A nod was given in response, quiet now that her social battery had been sapped so early on. It would recharge, most definitely, but for the moment, the silver siren was just pleased to be soaking in the morning sunlight with someone she enjoyed the company of. It was surprising to her, to have grown so close to the woman so quickly, almost impossibly quickly, but Esmerelda would not question the circumstances that she found herself falling into.

“Let us look,” She encourage, turning from the shore to move inland alongside the agouti woman.

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fuckingg stopppppp they're so freakin cute i can't

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Where Wake went, the sea-witch followed, happy enough to remain behind the woman so that she could enjoy the view. So lost in her thoughts was she, that Esmerelda didn't notice the pause of her guide ahead of her, swimming in an ocean of her own thoughts and feelings. There were many things there that the lighter woman probably should have stopped to examine, but they were left alone to flourish and fester both.

Imagine her surprise, when out of all that murkiness again shone the wonderful Wake, plucking her from that darkness as if Esme was a flower, and Wake the gardener. Further surprise when Wake placed an actual flower behind her ear.

A blush, a heat that rushed down the length of her spine to settle low in her body. Ears tilted back just a touch, periwinkle eyes looking for those grey ones, “Amante,” She started, surprise melting away to reveal the soft and warm gaze of affection. Though they hadn't known each other long at all, Esmerelda knew there was something there, even if neither of them were quite ready to acknowledge it.

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Their embrace was tender and warm in a way that Esmerelda had never really had an appetite for, until now. Whatever she had been before was changed now, changed by the woman that stood so close, kissed her jaw in a way that lit a fire in her belly. How so innocent a touch could illicit so devilish a desire, Esmerelda could not have said, especially not in that moment. 

In this moment, all that was in her mind was Wake. Beautiful, wonderful, Wake with her gentle kisses and sweet flowers, with her thundercloud eyes and purring voice.

“Você deve ficar comigo, Amante. — You must stay with me, lover.” Her voice was a whisper as she reached up to slide her cheek along the woman's own, stilling when their foreheads touched, her eyes slipping closed so, so gently. “Fique comigo e colha flores para mim até o fim dos tempos. — Stay with me and pick flowers for me until the end of time.”

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A laugh was given, so soft it could have been a whisper. Every touch Wake blessed her with was a new spark of life, another day added to the length of her life as if the woman had the magic of time wound around her kisses and her tongue.

“I will teach you anything you ask of me, meu amor. My love.” They were whispered words, a promise tied with a red ribbon that would forever link the two of them together.

Here, this spot, in this place, in these woods, Esmerelda would always remember this moment. The flowers that surrounded them, the trees that stood above them, and the salt licked breeze that played with their fur. She would remember all of it. 

“Let us make this place our own,” She would whisper to her lover, stepping back just once to be able to look up at her. “Please.” 

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And just like that, their bond was made known to them both. Their feelings laid bare for the two of them to see and acknowledge and encourage. Their fates twined as one from the moment Wake had found her upon the black shores at the edges of the ocean's reach. The beat of their hearts, the depth of their breath and the expansion of their lungs all fell into sync in the moments they stood there. The whispers of love and of promise whisked away by the sea breeze and into the world.

“No, meu amor. Anything for us.” For she was not a selfish lover, in the den or outside of it. If they were to succeed, they would do it all together, as one. Moving close again, Esmerelda tucked her head into the space beneath Wake's, snuggling against her chest to hear the heart that she had captured, that had captured her own. “Name our haven, my sailor.” Came the soft voice of the sea witch, muffled by that soft, salt laced fur.

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Saltwoods. 

Esmerelda liked the named. Appreciated it, for what it was. Simple and yet so complex, hiding its nature beneath the surface. She would be the Siren of the Saltwoods, all for Wake to claim as her own. 

A shiver raced down her spine at the thought of being owned in such a way. Never would she let a man take possession of her, of her heart, but Wake was no man. That was for certain. 

“Let us explore our new home, amante. Our Saltwoods.” With a kiss laid upon her sailor's jaw, Esme snuck out from under her, that tail flickering past Wake's nose as a tease, a lure. Loping off into the woods they would lay claim to, the nymph felt her heart flutter and soar high than any bird could have hoped to.

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Do we want to end this one here or keep goin?

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