Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
The roiling mist was a clear cause for alarm, and Maea's raucous caws filled the air about the same time that Thalassa's voice cut over the slosh of water and creaking timber. Coming down as she was vid, Maea resumed her ancient form and armed herself with her chakram, plus a spark of flame that hovered about her like an orange will-o-wisp. Getting tired of my own words
Licking her lips anxiously while peering at the strange swell of the sea, she prayed to every god that might listen that it wouldn't be a ghost whale. It was bad enough that this resembled the last time she'd gone to battle creatures in the sea - if she ended up in the water, odds were she'd book it to the shore as fast as she was able. Heroism died screaming, or however that song goes.
Maea shifts back to Ancient and arms herself with chakram and fire ~
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
