21st Day of Winter, 512 AV Beach Near the Docks Early Afternoon Leas stared up at the pale blue sky with mild indifference. Fat fluffy clouds scudded across the sky to the distant place the wind felt like carrying them today. Tears swelled in her eyes as she imagined flying with those clouds and trying to lie on their cottony tops. She turned a bitter glare down to the tail and fins stretched out where legs could have been. She'd been mostly bound to the shore and bay ever since she arrived at Zeltiva on the 15th. Without legs, it was extremely challenging to get anywhere on land, let alone around bustling city streets. If only she'd been born with wings like the true Akvatari, she could just fly overhead and decide where she wanted to land. Lacking the ability to move about the city was putting a heavy weight of loneliness upon her mind. The past few days seemed to have passed by achingly slow. Her only conversations had been with the sailors on their ships and workers on the docks. And they were all working, so one couldn't stop to chat for very long. She cast a longing glance up to the clouds once more before rolling onto her stomach and dragging herself back toward the sea on calloused elbows. A wave foamed and crashed over her once she was in range of the surf, helping to pull her out into the bay. Once in the water Leas submerged and made her way to the harbor's floor, on the search for a snack. Kelp was always easy to find in the ocean, and there was always an abundance. That could be harvested after she at least found a fish to eat for her afternoon meal. Breakfast had been sparse mainly because she hadn't felt like moving from the beach. A light shroud of depression had been wrapped around her all morning, but one had to eventually provide for physical needs. Silverdollar fish seemed to be abundant here in the bay; several schools were milling around on her way to the sea floor, but Leas didn't feel like putting an effort into chasing any today. She was on the hunt for one kind of fish in particular. As she wove slowly along the bay's bottom she kept her eyes trained to the sand, raking the area for any signs of movement. A cloud of dirt stirred in her peripheral vision and she swung around, searching for whatever had moved. It turned out to only be a horseshoe crab; not what she was looking for. Arthropod didn't sound good today, especially when Leas thought of possibly getting pinched. So she swam further along, cutting the water in front of her in a lazy breaststroke while her fins did most of the work. It must have been at least a bell before the fish she'd sought after finally betrayed its hiding place. Sand suddenly shifted and mushroomed in a miniature cloud below her, giving away the partially camouflaged body of a winter flounder. Her passing overhead had disturbed its rest, and in its surprise it had shifted ever so slightly. During the summer these fish went in to deeper waters, but in the colder months they moved back to bays and rivers. The main reason she'd been searching for one was because they were slow and completely incapable of defending themselves in any way. While summer flounder had teeth, the winter kind did not, and so it was like fish in a barrel if one could find them hidden in the sand. Leas circled around with a twist of her tail and lowered her body to the sandy floor next to the fish. Its thin body fluttered uncertainty like a flag blowing in a breeze. To test its health she poked it experimentally; seeing if it had energy to flee. It lifted off from its resting spot and wobbling away through the water, moving at a painfully slow pace. But it seemed healthy and so she shoved off the sand after it, easily grabbing hold of it before it could get more than a few yards away. She towed it behind her, backtracking the way she'd come. It flopped and wiggled in her tight grip, but it wasn't going anywhere. When Leas was able to locate a sharp enough rock, she stopped to pin the fish to the sand and pierce its head, killing it with a few quick strikes. You're going to be very delicious, fish. The white meat on winter flounders was regarded highly by anyone who knew anything about good seafood. Wisps of blood floated up from the wound in its head and disappeared as it mixed with the water. That could attract a hungry shark, so she didn't dilly dally any longer. On the way back to the shore she harvested a few long strips of kelp to go with her fish, and then the meal was complete. She'd also stumbled across some clam shells but they turned out to be empty, much to her dismay. That would have been a lucky find. Otters likely got them first. Finally, she crawled back onto the beach, dragging herself and her dinner up to a dry, semi-warm spot. She sat upright with her tail tucked close her body, wiping the mop of wet hair from her face. A small vessel bobbed by in the direction of the nearby docks, and she chewed on a piece of kelp as it passed. Men swarmed along the deck like busy insects, or even like a school of fish. If fish had two legs and walked on land. I'm going to need to go brush my hair soon. It's getting knotted, she thought absently as she tried to run a hand through her wet hair and it became caught in a snarl. Leas had stashed her very few belongings in a spot where high tide couldn't reach them; a dry, naturally formed pocket in some rock further down the shore. She'd probably go over there tomorrow. Her eyes glazed over a little as she chewed the strip of kelp some more and watched the surf roll in and out. This is what her days had started to amount to. Eating and sitting around in the sand. |