Told you not to worry, but maybe that's a lie
Her first time back in Torchline feels begrudgingly like coming home. The tightness in her chest eases considerably just to see the familiar shores and feel the kiss of salt on her cheeks. Despite the simmering anger that she clutches stubbornly close, her shoulders sit a little lower and her spine loosens its hold. She feels almost comfortable as she wanders the beaches, soaking in the blissful sunlight and rare warmth that still clings to the sand.
There's no original intention behind her path, yet it guides her towards the shadowed darkness of Rea's Fingers. The rhythm of her feet slows, and like a draw of a blade against skin, realization runs sharp over her mind, memories and frustration welling in her mind. She clenches her teeth but doesn't stop, stepping confidently into the cavern and the fury necessary to face it.
Water ripples quietly at her feet, the melodic whistling of drafts catching at her dark hair. The pirate captain doesn't need to glance at the etchings of the wall or light any fire to illuminate her way, muscles serving as her guide to the deeper sections of tunnels. She passes the marks for her own stash - two down-pointed arrows - to somewhere even farther, a long-abandoned alcove of glittering treasure that very few have managed to disturb in recent years. Even she hasn't visited since the first time someone had led her there, but now it calls her like a match waiting to be lit, just waiting to be struck.
Thal slips around the final corner, spotting the glimmer of various metals in the darkness. The flick of her tail lights a small sconce in the wall, casting the room in brilliant sparkles and long shadows. A wealth of crates and barrels fill the space, but she doesn't bother with the value beyond the rage that it sparks in her chest. She grabs at a dusty bottle, popping the cork with practiced ease as she begins to walk through the trinkets. Her hand tips to dump the liquor as she walks, only pausing to down a mouthful herself, taking her time as she anticipates the coming destruction.
There's no original intention behind her path, yet it guides her towards the shadowed darkness of Rea's Fingers. The rhythm of her feet slows, and like a draw of a blade against skin, realization runs sharp over her mind, memories and frustration welling in her mind. She clenches her teeth but doesn't stop, stepping confidently into the cavern and the fury necessary to face it.
Water ripples quietly at her feet, the melodic whistling of drafts catching at her dark hair. The pirate captain doesn't need to glance at the etchings of the wall or light any fire to illuminate her way, muscles serving as her guide to the deeper sections of tunnels. She passes the marks for her own stash - two down-pointed arrows - to somewhere even farther, a long-abandoned alcove of glittering treasure that very few have managed to disturb in recent years. Even she hasn't visited since the first time someone had led her there, but now it calls her like a match waiting to be lit, just waiting to be struck.
Thal slips around the final corner, spotting the glimmer of various metals in the darkness. The flick of her tail lights a small sconce in the wall, casting the room in brilliant sparkles and long shadows. A wealth of crates and barrels fill the space, but she doesn't bother with the value beyond the rage that it sparks in her chest. She grabs at a dusty bottle, popping the cork with practiced ease as she begins to walk through the trinkets. Her hand tips to dump the liquor as she walks, only pausing to down a mouthful herself, taking her time as she anticipates the coming destruction.
Thalassa
Honey, what's your hurry? Won't you stay inside?
