Skill:
Syrena

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Things everywhere were shifting. It was one disaster after the next. Perhaps it had been a mistake to leave the safety of the Keep. And perhaps that was why he had drifted in that direction, having taken a few days to disperse from the Cosmic Isle and reminisce on everything ... and everyone ... that he missed.

Syrena. Oswald. Hua.

One by one, they slid from him. And though he knew that the ocean would protect their souls, it did not leave his mortal body without aching. This cursed, emotional, quivering mortal body. It ached for contact and love far more than the ones he had embodied before. It had been so much easier to slide through life, swimming along through the currents. He had felt less there, naught but the embrace of the ocean.

But in this form, he sought a deeper connection.

And so he would travel toward the keep, looking for her, paws splashing through the waves as they licked upward at his paws. The sun shone overhead, warming his back as he trotted along the familiar coast. Soon, he would round the bay, eyes catching on the abandoned ship that had been the hallmark of their border. The man would smile lightly, pink eyes shining for a few moments as he padded onward.

It was strange. Though the scents were stale ... it still ... reminded him of home.

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Syrena had taken a few days to decompress, keeping herself from dreading the slew of emotions that caused her to become reckless. The woman had been in shambles since arriving in Yeulin, she had not been too keen on the aspect of allying. She did not wish to share a truth only a siren could see, no fault in. She didn’t believe she had to; she had found them first - she had given them a home only for them to be torn away. Her tail would draw behind her, annoyance causing it to bristle behind her back.

She understood that sharing was something that was common practice, but why did it make her feel so… Jealous. It was not like she had been keen on keeping herself away from others, so why should she be so hypocritical? A thought popped into her mind that the whole reason he had been spending so much time with Oswald before his death? Her ears would draw backward; was she the reason for his distance?

Furrowed brows, she would pace what was once her den - the indentation of her body was along the ground, but there was a space missing beside her. Should she let him go? She had done so for so many lifetimes. Giving him up… over and over again. When they had finally come together as the same species, there was still a wedge between them.

The currents of the ocean were pulling them away from each other again… The thought caused her heart to sputter. She would move to clutch her chest with her paw, even the thought felt so unbearable that this mortal body couldn’t handle it.

Pulling herself from the den, she reached the outskirts she would turn her gaze down the strip of the beach. Her ears would pull forward as she gazed at a familiar form. Blinking a few times to make sure it was not the change of light that made her see things.

“Makara?” She asked, barely above a whisper. Her paws would start in that direction, moving swifter as his scent drew into her lungs, “Makara!” She screamed out, all those feelings swaying her to slow down her steps, stopping just a few strides away from him, “What are you doing here?” Her voice breathy.

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Skill: 

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He would trail along the shore, pressing through the water as the saline-infused air breezed through his fur. The warmth of the spring sun would cause his skin to tingle, a pleasant mixture of ocean chill and sun warmth tracing patterns along his back. The dragon would smile softly, his gaze fixated on the rhythmic waves of the water as he moved at a similar pace.

And his breath would match the tide.

"Makara."

For a moment, it felt like the ocean was calling him. His name in her voice, so sweet on his ears, would ring through him. It would cause him to slow for a moment, ears perking forward as he tried to capture it. It was so familiar ... embedded within him so deeply. Lifetimes of memories had solidified it within him to a point where it could never be erased.

And then he knew it was not the ocean.

His chest tightened, a harsh exhale pressed from his lips as he turned his gaze away from the tide and looked down the stretch of beach. "Makara!" She called him again, and he was no longer standing, but instead floating upon long legs as he glided toward her with the precision of a million lifetimes. Syrena! And he did not slow until he neared her. He noted the way she slowed, standing a few strides from him ... but he did not stop.

Instead, he allowed himself to gently collide with her, pressing his chest into her own without hesitation.

Hjarta mitt, (My heart,) he would breathe, pressing his nose into her cheek. I was ... looking for you, he would continue, answering her question as he pulled his nose back and peered his eyes toward her.

Are you okay? His eyes scanned her, and he did not hide how desperate they were to roll over her figure. They had been apart for so long ... so long that Makara had perhaps thought she had been returned to the sea. And yet, here she stood. The dragon's heart would thrum in his chest, reunited once more with a partner that spanned lifetimes.

Home.

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The world that formed around her had dissipated, the ocean that roared in her ears was replaced by the blood that rushed to her head. It had been so long… too long… since she had seen the dragon walk in her sight. His voice called her name. How desperate she was to hear it coming from his mouth. The way each syllable played along his tongue, he continued towards her, and just as she had slowed, he would pick up the distance between them. Her eyes widened, only to fall closed as his form snaked its way around her.

She could feel every inch of her body relax into him, her nose drawing in his scent of warm sand and vanilla, accompanied by notes of sweet floral and melon. Syrena had forgotten why she had been upset with him in the first place. All the worries that furrowed her brows were no longer there, and sleepless nights without him settled into the past.

The baritone of his voice vibrated against his chest, his muzzle gently nuzzling along her cheek. Her question was answered quickly, as if it were preposterous that she did not know. Her head would fall beneath her chin, pushing upward to nuzzle in the crook of his neck, “Sál mín.” (my soul)

Drawing back just for a moment, she felt his gaze wander over her body. Igniting her with a desire only he could muster inside of her. Something she continued to struggle to come to terms with - love. Perhaps that is why she had been so fearful, afraid he would be able to make someone else feel the way she does about him and vice versa.

He asked if she was okay… she barely heard it… There was too much going on inside her head to determine if she was okay. How could he speak so freely? She couldn’t form the words, but she could show him. She placed a paw along his cheek, gingerly drawing back the fur before she leaned in. Her lips now brushing his own, before deepening the kiss, giving him every ounce of feeling that she had. Love, jealousy, want, desire, selfishness…

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