Maea
And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain
But take the pain
Again, Maea could only shrug. "It is how it is," she said, repeating a very common Grounder sentiment. "Complaining about whether something is fair or not won't change how it is. Don't be too quick to judge a situation when you've only seen one side of it. The Old Gods made this world, Quanil, and us too. They are under no obligation to be fair, or nice, or even to make sense. Whether your sister chooses to follow their wishes is up to her, and I won't argue with anything to the contrary, as long as her actions don't jeoperdize others." Arguing over the sentiment of a girl that wasn't even around to speak for herself was rather pointless however, and would lead nowhere.
Maea turned and stepped through the surging waves, wading a bit deeper out. Rather than wash up over her slender frame however, the water seemed to surge around her, not quite reaching all the way in to soak her skin. When she bent down to reach for something on the ground, the water accommodated her and moved out of the way; the use of the water magic was so effortless that it seemed almost non-existent. More like the sea had gained a mind of its own, rather than being bent and shaped by mortal will. Frankly, Maea hardly thought twice about it either, the control coming so easy to her these days.
When she turned back to Quanil, it was with a rather big shell held before her. Marbled in pink and white, it spiraled in on itself, and was heavy enough that she had to use both hands to support it. A conch shell, empty and washed clean by the seawater.
"What about this, you think she'd find it interesting?" She held up the shell, and used a trickle of telekinesis to make it float over to Quanil, carried on some invisible wind.
Maea turned and stepped through the surging waves, wading a bit deeper out. Rather than wash up over her slender frame however, the water seemed to surge around her, not quite reaching all the way in to soak her skin. When she bent down to reach for something on the ground, the water accommodated her and moved out of the way; the use of the water magic was so effortless that it seemed almost non-existent. More like the sea had gained a mind of its own, rather than being bent and shaped by mortal will. Frankly, Maea hardly thought twice about it either, the control coming so easy to her these days.
When she turned back to Quanil, it was with a rather big shell held before her. Marbled in pink and white, it spiraled in on itself, and was heavy enough that she had to use both hands to support it. A conch shell, empty and washed clean by the seawater.
"What about this, you think she'd find it interesting?" She held up the shell, and used a trickle of telekinesis to make it float over to Quanil, carried on some invisible wind.
Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay
You choose to stay
