tides of thunder

but the darker the weather, the better the man

you can take all you want

They had speculated of the ocean, while Sunjata had dreamed there might be something close to it here. As Deimos’ gaze drifts toward the maps, Sunjata’s follows, acknowledging the speculation with a brief hum of agreement. “I’d hoped there was.” A shrug, an offering tidbit of information of what he was like. A man of the water, a man of the seas, as much as Deimos was a man crafted from the jagged cracks of mountains and snowscapes. Sunjata’s was in the ripples of the water, the waves that crashed along a sandy shore.

At the question, though, his gaze returns to Deimos. “We had one in Korofi. My county was mostly inset, so we’d have many flooding seasons and what not, but sometimes I’d slip away with my sister and we’d go spend time at the ocean much to my father’s displeasure.” He shrugs again, a nostalgic hum of laughter leaving him at that. Falling asleep at the side of the water midday, only to be woken as the tide swept in, tickling his feet and threatening to drown him. It was a great thing he could swim, in the end. He’d likely have stood a chance.

“Have you?” He asks, taking another sip from the glass.

but not who i am

SuNJATA