What a nice day for a walk on the beach.
At sunset, Arialla walks up out of the water. She's spent a lot of times in her shifts lately, traveling Caido as a dolphin or eagle, trying to get her head on straight, so to speak. She'd realized that she didn't like who she was, the woman so gnarled and twisted with hate that it flowed from her in every word, every action; that it consumed her. But even once she'd recognized what she'd become, it seemed impossible to change -- or, worse, too late. So she'd simply avoided the question, avoided herself. If she didn't want to be that woman, then she would just be a dolphin instead. Dolphins didn't hate.
But it's time to come back to the real world. Rising out of the water, Arialla pushes her wet hair back and smiles a little, a bit sadly. She can feel herself sinking back into that fugue of loathing and bitterness as if falling into a bog, as if wrapping herself in a shroud. Part of her cringes at the sensation, but part of her welcomes it. Her break has lasted long enough. Now ... she has a war to fight.
please don't take my sunshine away
