Affection and warmth was heavy in Callan’s chest as she waved her well-loved companion goodbye, an unusual smile playing upon her lips as his handsome form faded into a mark in the distance.
She found herself wandering the coastline for quite some time, a comfortable ache continuing to build from exertion. There had not been many an opportunity to wander aimlessly during her time in Marionsport; there was always another task to complete, another match to prepare for.
But here, under the moonlight, with the crashing accompaniment of the waves, she found her thoughts steady, though she had never been this lost in all of her years.
At some point, the bandaged wound upon her calf would flare up, calling for a reprieve. She would then set herself close to the water’s edge, feeling the waves lap against her loosened clothing.
“Alright, I am not one to doubt your wishes, Dear Lady. I am here now, in a land of errant folk, each clamoring for a bounty of their own. Well, my bounty is your blessing - a greedy request, considering all you have bestowed upon me already.” Her finger would trace along the damp sand, swirling.
“Yet, it has been some time here and it seems all I have done is indulge - in violence, in drink, and in affection. I felled that puppet, that beast, mimicking your herald; and yet the Songstress’s voice has returned in a twisted way. I fight in your name, but only have lessons in humility to offer you.”
A rugged hand would gently go to touch her neck, a blush spreading across her chest and visage. “And it is difficult, to not be tempted by the… forms of these land-bound folk. To speak out of turn, to press a holy kiss upon one’s handsome brow.”
“Your direction is wild and commanding as the sea you conduct; your hand shapes the voyage of my journey, as it has since I was a young girl. But for fuck’s sake, what would you have me do here?!”
Pinching the bridge of her nose briefly, she would shake her head then, unleashing a yell of frustration. Her voice seemed to pour out of her; damned be the fey that could be listening. She would not conceal her call in fear of their trickery.
Chest heaving, the waves seemed to simply return the gesture in kind, crashing against the sand, rolling in that same erratic predictability.
She’d sit in silence; she and her comforting sea. Resolution seemed to roll over her thoughts, as that dull, predictable pain settled into her bones once more.
“Your response has been what it always has been; steady, strong. I suppose I shall do as I have always done, too; to fish, to fight, to emerge victor in your name. And perhaps then you will bring a ship home for me, and allow me to serve you on your true shores once more.”
She would brush herself off, weakly hobbling to stand. In the distance, the Spire twinkled, a needle piercing the fabric of the sky.
