Open [Cerulean Pier] The waves go round

[Weylin Quickshot]

20th Winter, 512 AV
Cerulean Pier
Sometime in the morning.

It was the crashing sound of the waves that attracted Weylin to this place, the roar of the white spray as it crashed against the rocks. It was the rumble of the deep, the coming from the deep as the water thrashed its way to the surface. But Weylin simply stared out, her expression vacant as she looked out across the ocean. She never had the opportunity to look out across the blue expanse, instead she had the Sea of Grass to look upon, to see the fauna twist and turn, to be caught by the wind and ripple across to the horizon. It was however no where near the beauty of the waves, it was far beyond that. Further up the pier she could see the remains of what had collapsed into the sea, the water reaching up to drag it down. It was indeed a powerful force.

She brought her cloak closer around her, stopping it from suddenly snapping in the wind, and catching around something. She continued to stare, watching the boats bob about, rising and falling, admiring the beauty of what laid before her. No matter how much Weylin tried to tell herself otherwise, she found the ocean fascinating, but the ideals of swimming or boats unnerved her. It was tempting fate in taking to the ocean in those wooden hulls, but then the same could be said about riding about the Sea of Grass upon the back of a Strider.

She took in a deep breath of the sea air, and perched herself down at the pier edge, letting her legs swing back and forth above the mighty drop. She wince at the pain in her left shin, and looked down at the bandaging she wore there. It was a memory indeed, and perhaps one that seemed to of occurred over an age ago in another life. But it was the pain of the healing would that reminded her that the past was real. She drew her attention away, watching the waves turn and roll, and admiring the work of Laviku this time in finer detail, no longer giving him challenging looks like she did at the fountain a few days before, for she accepted he was doing his work elsewhere. And now she had a perfect view of it.

[Lenalia Sabriel]

Lena liked to watch the sea. Her hometown of Syliras was geographically close to the Suvan Sea, but it wasn't a part of the water the way Zeltiva was. In Zeltiva, the ocean seemed to seep into every aspect of life, like the salt air that pervaded the city. She wouldn't normally have been out here on this morning, but she didn't have class today, and needed the walk to clear her head. Her feet had carried her here. She finished the last line of the preliminary sketch, tucking her pencil away in her bag along with her sketchbook. It was too cold for her to spend her time working with charcoal now. She would wait until she was in the comfort of her dormitory, and then sketch the scene based on her pencil lines and memory. The Cerulean Pier, empty in the cold winter morning and stretching on and on until the portion where it had been damaged by the wooden storm, the sea tossed by the wind and crashing against the rocks, and a single solitary figure seated at the end of the pier, legs hanging over the side and wild, untamed hair tossed in the wind. Lena stared at the figure for a moment, resting one gloved hand on the railing of the pier as she debated what to do. It wasn't in her nature to talk to people without being approached first. She liked to observe them, to sketch them, to imagine their stories. But she wasn't sketching now. And if she returned to the university, she would spend her time fretting about her painting class, or running her mind around in circles trying to comprehend Auristics. Neither were things she felt ready to do just yet. And the concept of someone sitting at the end of the Zeltivan pier in winter, alone, was intriguing. She hesitated, drawing her fur cloak tighter around herself, before stepping forward, her footsteps light and cautious as she walked up to the end of the pier. Lena stopped a few feet away from the woman, looking out at the ocean. "I haven't seen many people come out here since winter started," she commented. The Bonesnapper kept most people away from the sea, except those who had business to be there. Lena had felt the wind before. It was immensely cold. But it didn't stop her from making the occasional trip.

[Weylin Quickshot]

Weylin was staring out, feeling the wind catch her hair, letting the free strands snake about. It was indeed cold, the air turning icy. For a while she seemed vacant, her eyes focused only on the waves, the rise and fall of the water, hypnotised from the motion. She did not hear the dull steps coming behind her until the last moment, the moments hesitation in talking, shyness and uncertainty perhaps, Weylin could not tell.
"I haven't seen many people come out here since winter started," the woman spoke. Weylin turned her head slightly, taking in the image of her, a fur cloak covering most of her form, the trim of a dress peaking out from the bottom. Weylin's eyes for a moment seemed dulled, as if she was trying to comprehend what was just said in her somewhat distracted mind. But after a few moments Weylin looked upon her fully, her eyes becoming sharp and analysing, before dragging them away.

"They do not come out here then?" she spoke with a heavy Drykan accent in the back in her voice "Shame, they miss the beauty."
She looked upon the waves again, her eyes becoming glazed, her thoughts drifting to elsewhere. She watched the water reach up to the sky and reach for it, before falling back down into the depths. She inhaled, and brought herself back to reality. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. The presence of the woman made her curious, and perhaps it was the same reason she came over to begin with. Why else would strangers talk and communicate with each other? Weylin cleared her throat, her eyes focused on nothing in particular.
"So, if there is so few people that come out here, then why are you out here? For art or for the view?"

[Lenalia Sabriel]

"Can't they be the same thing?" Lena asked, looking out at the ocean. A part of her did think of the ocean as art, in and of itself. There were a lot of things in the world that couldn't be fully captured on paper, or, she assumed, discovered through an Aurist's skill. True art. Because if the gods could create anything, what stopped them from creating beautiful art all on their own? Lena clasped her hands in front of her, suddenly feeling guilty as her musings faded, bringing her back into reality. What was she supposed to say to this woman? 'I watched you from the shore and sketched you before coming here?' It was why she didn't normally talk to the unknowing subjects of her works. By telling them about the drawings, she risked their ire, by not telling them, she felt dishonest. But something had possessed her to come out here for once and talk. She wouldn't have done it before coming to Zeltiva. She would have been too afraid. The city was changing her. She didn't fully understand why or how, but she knew that much. The longer she stayed here, the less timid she became. She wondered what she would eventually become. "I drew you," she admitted guiltily, placing one hand over the satchel where she kept her sketchbook and her drawing supplies. "I apologize if you didn't want me to. But it made for an interesting sight, you sitting out here." The woman had a thick accent. Lena wondered where it was from. Despite her hair, she didn't look Svefra. For one, she had the wrong eyes.

[Weylin Quickshot]

Weylin did not say anything, there was no need to say anything. Instead she slowly nodded, an acceptance of the woman's words, for they were also true. Art and the view were both the same thing, an ever changing picture of colour and noise. Something no doubt Weylin would learn to appreciate in time. Her eyes ran across the wave tops, a brief glance at what laid beyond them before she was drawn back to the reality.
"I drew you," she heard the woman pause "I apologize if you didn't want me to. But it made for an interesting sight, you sitting out here."

It took a moment for Weylin to understand what had been said, the words translating in her mind. But then the Drykas gave a smile, there was never an issue of her being drawn, for if she was an object of art then so be it. She turned her head up to the woman, and raised an eyebrow.
"There is no need for apologizing," she spoke calmly, but the accent remained "I see it more as a complement anyway."
And so Weylin turned her head away, her green eyes once more tracing the sea, before she picked herself up from the floor. She stretched, inhaling the salty air as a blast of wind came upon them. Yes, the sea indeed was a wonderful thing, no matter how one ever viewed it.