Thalassa
A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.
Thal let the movement of her legs and the pumping of her arms pull the stress from her body. Her thoughts became comfortably empty, just focusing on the fire building in her chest from the knife-sharp inhales of icy air. An itchy sensation ran down her muscles from the increased blood flow, turning slightly red on the areas that peaked out from beneath her cloak. She took a moment to glance over at Maea who had caught up with her despite the Ancient's shorter stature. Her cumbersome attire made Thal surprised by her speed, giving her a boost of competitiveness. With a lengthening of her stride, she accelerated up the snowy slope, hoping to leave Maea in her drift.
