Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away
Torchline was not a good place for brooding minds and broken hearts. The sun shone too brightly overhead, and the color of the ocean was far too vivid. Perhaps if she had been more inclined to drowning her sorrows in a bottle or ravel away until she could think of nothing else, it might have been different, but that was not her way. It was the exact kind of lifestyle she had turned down, and a pair of ocean eyes along with it, and Maea found that she enjoyed the scenery not at all when it only brought back memories she was trying to put behind her.
She had hunkered down within the cathedral earlier that day, when the tide had been low enough to walk. Since, she had found herself trapped there as the ocean came rolling back in to hide the sand bank. It did not bother her. If she really wanted to, the girl could probably walk atop the water to get back to the shore, but... what would be the point of that? There was nothing on land that really interested her.
Brought out of her her thoughts by the sound of splashing outside, she pushed herself to her feet and peered out. Found that a man was settling down, a fishing rod in hand. In her tattered white dress, with hair and skin tones to match it, and with a ragged black shawl draped loosely over her head and shoulders to keep out the sun, she looked an odd bird in this colorful paradise. Out of place, like some ghost gone astray from Ludo's guidance.
"Catch anything?" she asked, leaning her arms against a bannister looking outcrop of glass and coral.
She had hunkered down within the cathedral earlier that day, when the tide had been low enough to walk. Since, she had found herself trapped there as the ocean came rolling back in to hide the sand bank. It did not bother her. If she really wanted to, the girl could probably walk atop the water to get back to the shore, but... what would be the point of that? There was nothing on land that really interested her.
Brought out of her her thoughts by the sound of splashing outside, she pushed herself to her feet and peered out. Found that a man was settling down, a fishing rod in hand. In her tattered white dress, with hair and skin tones to match it, and with a ragged black shawl draped loosely over her head and shoulders to keep out the sun, she looked an odd bird in this colorful paradise. Out of place, like some ghost gone astray from Ludo's guidance.
"Catch anything?" she asked, leaning her arms against a bannister looking outcrop of glass and coral.
