Of course Arialla headed to the beach as soon as possible -- before she'd really gotten her feet in Caido, really. She'd spent her entire childhood playing on the sand; it ought to feel like home. It ought to, but it didn't. She could scarcely believe, as she stood on the wet sand -- a hand covering the horrified O of her mouth -- that even the ocean was different in Caido. She couldn't put her finger on what was off, exactly -- the color of the water, the coastline, the smell in the air -- but it wasn't home. It would never be home. She would never be home.
She sank to her knees in the sand, folding in on herself, letting out a low keen of pain. It felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach, as if the strange sea had killed something inside her. Tears ran down her face, a more familiar form of salt water. Praying felt like the only good response to this discovery, but she couldn't find the words. Instead she just moaned, hand over her mouth, gasping for breath. She swayed back in forth in total misery, completely unaware of anyone else nearby. If she'd realized someone was watching her, she would have felt deeply ashamed of the mess she'd made of herself.
She sank to her knees in the sand, folding in on herself, letting out a low keen of pain. It felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach, as if the strange sea had killed something inside her. Tears ran down her face, a more familiar form of salt water. Praying felt like the only good response to this discovery, but she couldn't find the words. Instead she just moaned, hand over her mouth, gasping for breath. She swayed back in forth in total misery, completely unaware of anyone else nearby. If she'd realized someone was watching her, she would have felt deeply ashamed of the mess she'd made of herself.
