Speech | 85th Day of Winter, 504 AV | Thoughts
It would be spring soon enough, and then it would break to summer, and the Ice Breaker would once more keep to its name, and battle the ice in the North.
As much as numb fingers and the layering of clothing irritated the best of the Whitewater Pod, each took the pain in stride and with pride. There would not be one single patch of Laviku’s ocean that the Svefra did not sail upon, and if doing so meant the sacrifice of ease and comfort, then so be it. Until then, however, the young Svefra would not pretend to dislike the way the sun warmed her skin on the late winter afternoon, or even more so as the ocean breeze seemed to be coming in from the warmer south west, be they radiating from warmer waters or continents she did not know.
What she did indeed know, however, was that the lounging duty of sitting high upon the Ice Breaker’s crow’s nest, and switching her attention from the Avikki nest to the boundless oceans on all sides. The Lia told stories of The Suvan Sea, the ocean near girt by land, where one was never alone on the waves – there were weeks on end when the pod did not intentionally come into contact with another vessel. It made the crew kinder, she heard. It did not bode well to make enemies when resources were scarce. Being as domineering as their Suvan sisters was simply not a luxury those who dwelled in the outer oceans could afford.
‘How exciting.’
The bird close by, once so quiet the Svefra could pretend it did not exist, cawed thrice, and she eyed the creature with distrust. The birds were sacred, and protected by Svefra Law, and although the fowl were on friendly and trusting terms with most of the crew, it did not mean that they did not peck at those unluckly enough to invoke their fury. The bird bobbed its head, before settling down in its nest once more, and a sudden pick up of wind had Naia pull out one of the pod’s telescopes, and with the awkward, thin bones of her fingers, fumbled at the latch, before hooking it with her thumb and extending it its full distance.
With one eye closed, she did her best to keep her arms firm and sturdy against the constant rock of the ship. She wasn’t looking for anything- what was there to see? Perhaps the fin of a shark, she fancied. Maybe a whale. What were their migration patterns like, again? Did they go further south than Nyka? The ship had had to stay at least reasonably close to the city, in case of emergency, she reminded herself, seeking the direction of the city. Was she facing east, or West?
‘We could be somewhere far nice if Isla hadn’t gotten herself-’ “Naia, Naia where are you?” The Lia’s voice was unmistakable, loud and crackling even in her faring age. “Mila needs help, now,” The Matriarch made her commands before she could even set her sights upon the young girl, though once her icy blue gaze found hers let out such a loud grunt that it could be heard from even a distance.
As much as numb fingers and the layering of clothing irritated the best of the Whitewater Pod, each took the pain in stride and with pride. There would not be one single patch of Laviku’s ocean that the Svefra did not sail upon, and if doing so meant the sacrifice of ease and comfort, then so be it. Until then, however, the young Svefra would not pretend to dislike the way the sun warmed her skin on the late winter afternoon, or even more so as the ocean breeze seemed to be coming in from the warmer south west, be they radiating from warmer waters or continents she did not know.
What she did indeed know, however, was that the lounging duty of sitting high upon the Ice Breaker’s crow’s nest, and switching her attention from the Avikki nest to the boundless oceans on all sides. The Lia told stories of The Suvan Sea, the ocean near girt by land, where one was never alone on the waves – there were weeks on end when the pod did not intentionally come into contact with another vessel. It made the crew kinder, she heard. It did not bode well to make enemies when resources were scarce. Being as domineering as their Suvan sisters was simply not a luxury those who dwelled in the outer oceans could afford.
‘How exciting.’
The bird close by, once so quiet the Svefra could pretend it did not exist, cawed thrice, and she eyed the creature with distrust. The birds were sacred, and protected by Svefra Law, and although the fowl were on friendly and trusting terms with most of the crew, it did not mean that they did not peck at those unluckly enough to invoke their fury. The bird bobbed its head, before settling down in its nest once more, and a sudden pick up of wind had Naia pull out one of the pod’s telescopes, and with the awkward, thin bones of her fingers, fumbled at the latch, before hooking it with her thumb and extending it its full distance.
With one eye closed, she did her best to keep her arms firm and sturdy against the constant rock of the ship. She wasn’t looking for anything- what was there to see? Perhaps the fin of a shark, she fancied. Maybe a whale. What were their migration patterns like, again? Did they go further south than Nyka? The ship had had to stay at least reasonably close to the city, in case of emergency, she reminded herself, seeking the direction of the city. Was she facing east, or West?
‘We could be somewhere far nice if Isla hadn’t gotten herself-’ “Naia, Naia where are you?” The Lia’s voice was unmistakable, loud and crackling even in her faring age. “Mila needs help, now,” The Matriarch made her commands before she could even set her sights upon the young girl, though once her icy blue gaze found hers let out such a loud grunt that it could be heard from even a distance.