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Seaweed Script; Fanwood Text; Signika;
Deirdre of the Sea
x
The sea felt strange. Or rather, it sounded strange as Deirdre couldn't see the sea, but she was able to hear it from her little room. It sounded distant and hollow, as if it was wailing for something it had lost, but at the same time rejecting what had been gone. The mermaid wondered what it meant and why it was. Was it looking for her, who was stuck here? Or had the sea cast her out on purpose? She couldn't tell and somewhere within she felt that she didn't want to tell.
Days had passed since she woke up in the village of the humans. Badgered and bruised she had been brought into this place for treatment, with the humans surrounding her uttering strange things. A man with a lightning device flashed into her eyes, causing her to hiss and fight, then they examined the membranes between the digits of her limbs. For a bit Deirdre was afraid they would cut it away, judging from their gasps of horror, but it seemed that they had decided to leave her alone to heal first. Perhaps there was an initiation rite for the cutting of the skin, for no one that she had met so far had the same hands as she did.
The flood of questions they kept on asking were all met with silence. Deirdre didn't know how to answer them, didn't understand their questions. Shipwrecked? Drowned? Did they mistake her to be one of them? Deirdre was horrified by that thought, feeling insulted as she remained quiet. She had no answers for them. Not to the questions they asked. There was no obligation for her to tell them anything.
However, the sea remained strange. Even as she became stronger and was almost healed up. Even if she felt ready to return to the sea again. There was something about the salty air that felt off.
And then there was the matter of that conversation she overheard by accident. Deirdre had just pretended to be asleep, unwilling to speak or to eat their food. However, the conversation that followed between the strangers had been disturbing and left the creature shaken. It resolved her that, no matter what, she had to escape today.
It was thus that the female slipped out of her bed at midnight, her body still badgered and bruised from the storm and her feet unfamiliar to the wood of the floor. Walking was surprisingly exhausting, but Deirdre willed herself to continue, to go on even if she felt her legs scream in pain and her wounds protest.
Days had passed since she woke up in the village of the humans. Badgered and bruised she had been brought into this place for treatment, with the humans surrounding her uttering strange things. A man with a lightning device flashed into her eyes, causing her to hiss and fight, then they examined the membranes between the digits of her limbs. For a bit Deirdre was afraid they would cut it away, judging from their gasps of horror, but it seemed that they had decided to leave her alone to heal first. Perhaps there was an initiation rite for the cutting of the skin, for no one that she had met so far had the same hands as she did.
The flood of questions they kept on asking were all met with silence. Deirdre didn't know how to answer them, didn't understand their questions. Shipwrecked? Drowned? Did they mistake her to be one of them? Deirdre was horrified by that thought, feeling insulted as she remained quiet. She had no answers for them. Not to the questions they asked. There was no obligation for her to tell them anything.
However, the sea remained strange. Even as she became stronger and was almost healed up. Even if she felt ready to return to the sea again. There was something about the salty air that felt off.
And then there was the matter of that conversation she overheard by accident. Deirdre had just pretended to be asleep, unwilling to speak or to eat their food. However, the conversation that followed between the strangers had been disturbing and left the creature shaken. It resolved her that, no matter what, she had to escape today.
It was thus that the female slipped out of her bed at midnight, her body still badgered and bruised from the storm and her feet unfamiliar to the wood of the floor. Walking was surprisingly exhausting, but Deirdre willed herself to continue, to go on even if she felt her legs scream in pain and her wounds protest.
@SkittlesAndSpike
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