9 Winter, 517 A.V. morning Kaimana had been travelling for a very very very long time when he stuck his head up above the waves and espied a figure standing on the beach up ahead. His heart jumped up and scattered pell-mell against his ribcage at the realization of what he was seeing, as though it’d had its butt stuck by the pointy ends of his bone trident. Kaimana dove back into the water and kicked a gleeful loop-the-loop, letting out a low croon of pure delight. The sound made pleasant undulations through the water -- nothing the figure on the beach would have heard, though. Finally! Finally finally finally! The niggling possibility that he’d never see another living being again had been persistently prodding the back of his mind like an itch that he couldn’t reach, but it had been gloriously wrong. With another higher-pitched croon, he shot off in the direction of the figure, swimming faster than he’d ever swam in the past couple of days, faster than even that one time he’d had to swim for his life with a spearhead nipping at his heels. He’d been caught by surprise, having accidentally encroached upon its coral territory. His heart hadn’t stopped hammering for many bells! But this -- this was better. When he got close enough to the figure that he’d be able to stand in the shallows at waist-height, he burst out of the water, a fan of water following the arc of his body as he reared upward and shook himself. He was wearing his knapsack and holding in his right arm his trusty bone trident. Then, without missing a beat, he said in accented Common, “Hello! Hello my name is Kaimana, what is yours?” He had practiced what his first words to another living being would be and he’d meant for it to be a lot more elegant, but he was too jittery to check himself. |