Elephants of the Sea (Onaona)

[Puk]

Timestamp: Fall 4, 520

Puk was sitting atop the rocks of Sharktooth Point, his feet dangling over the side. He'd been sitting there for hours, kicking his large, dark legs off the rock. He wouldn't normally spend this much time sitting in one spot, but today had led to such a strange circumstance. The day had been fairly normal from the get go. Puk woke up, made his bed as perfect and pristine as possible, went to the beach, bathed, then went looking for food. He was a big elephant, with a big appetite, and gorged himself on a bunch of mangoes he'd found growing not so far from Syka proper.

Afterwards, he wandered up toward the Sawmill. He liked spending time there, getting to know the Ashta there. He spent a while watching Lars from a distance. He still hadn't yet spoken to the man. He didn't like men. Grae had said they were all bad and were lesser than women, and he should only listen to and trust women.

But this man seemed... different. The Ashta all loved him. They worked with him, not for him. He was a part of their herd. He was kind to them. He helped train them, he spent time with them. He loved them. And they loved him. And Puk wanted that, for himself. This was only the third time he'd ever wanted anything for himself. And Syka had already given him one of those.

After he finished watching them all, he wandered along the path, until he found what looked to be a particularly large rock. He hadn't noticed it in his three previous days. He walked up the slope, his human form loping forward on large, heavy feet, his giant hands helping to pull him over the stones. Soon, he was at the top, looking out over the Suvan Sea. And it was beautiful. Pristine, blue, and seemingly endless. This view was so much different than that from his bungalow, from the beach in which he bathed.

For the first time in his life, Puk felt truly small, and he liked it.

He sat down here at the spot known to others as Sharktooth Point, naked as a jaybird save for the wooden necklace that hung against his broad chest. And he smiled. It was so relaxing here, and Puk found himself free of the burdens of his past. For one long, hours long, moment, Puk was nothing more than a large stone overlooking the ocean, and he felt small.

And he laughed, for the first time in his life.

[Onaona]

It was a strange feeling, seeing the foremost point of Syka's coast after several days away. Had Onaona not memorized a staggering array of seafarer ballads she might not have guessed what that feeling was. The Otani had wandered away, as she was wont to do, pulled along by the currents of the water and the stronger current of her attention. But a week out, having surfaced for the first time in days, she looked around and felt that something was... off. The shore was strange and the trees seemed unfriendly, and she knew something terrible was missing. She turned back, guided by this hollow feeling until the great, jagged tooth of Sharktooth Point could be seen thrust above the waves. Then that hollowness turned to joy in her missing heart, and the Otani sang as she dove fast for the cove.

"We're homeward bound,
Oh joyful sound!
Come rally the capstan,
And run quick around.
Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound."

And for the first time in her long life, the monster looked inside herself and found it had been homesick.

"What a thing to be!" she bubbled, her accented common lost below the water. But an answer came regardless, in the form of pulsing whistles and clicks from an Orca pod that were following her to the shallower waters.

They hadn't been traveling together long. The five Orcas, four rugged, scarred adults and a calf, didn't pay the monster much attention, but she appreciated their noisy company anyway. It must be Autumn if there were these great beasts so far south, but Syka's coast was as lush and green as ever. She slipped through the colourful reef of Sharktooth Point, leaving her whale companions behind to hunt off the coast, and knew, with a clarity she had never known before, that she was home.

But it seemed home had acquired something new in her absence. As she pulled herself from the high tide to check on her belongings in their hiding place she looked up and spotted a dark mass high atop the sun-bleached rock. She squinted, as she had seen Marino do when viewing something from far away, and tipped back her head. There were lightly coloured but thickly padded feet dangling high above her head. They were attached to dark ankles and monstrous thighs, and presumably a massive body, though all she could see of it was the suggestion of curly hair leaning out past the knee. Then it laughed, and the bass of that happy sound seemed to vibrate in her empty chest like a clap of thunder, or like she was laughing too.

"You laugh like a stone rolling down a riverbed", she called up to the dangling feet, curious and delighted. "Look! Do you see them? Whales from the north have come. They sing sweetly, if you know how to listen." She was pointing excitedly out to sea, where the pod was cresting just past the reef, though the man wouldn't be able to see her without leaning dangerously forward. "Do you sing sweetly? No. Perhaps you sing like a river, or a landslide", she mused, her pupiless eye wandered as she thought aloud before snapping back to attention. "I'll bet you float like a log, though! Come down and swim with me, strange dark boy. Listen to the whales. They sing sweetly, but only to the sea."

[Puk]

Puk hadn't come to expect to hear a woman's voice up at his perch on Sharktooth point, though he wasn't bothered by it. He was still getting used to the idea that people wanted to talk to him and that he was allowed to talk to them now. He leaned far forward, peering downward. Puk wasn't scared as he peered down, he'd never really had a fear of heights for he was so tall in his normal form. Plus he had a heavy, low center of gravity that kept his ass firmly where he'd planted it. When he saw the source of the voice, he cocked his head a bit to the sideways. It was definitely a woman, for she had all the curves and sounds of a woman. But she seemed to be made of water. Puk had never heard of such a thing before. Yet her excitement, her enthusiasm, her desire to talk to him specifically, kept him from being afraid of such a strange discovery.

He cast his gaze forward as she'd directed and now he could see what he assumed were the whales she'd talked about. They were black and white and jumping in and out of the water. He had heard of whales though only in stories. He had thought they'd be bigger. From here, he was fairly certain he was bigger than them, at least in his natural state. Still, a large smile grew upon his face. They looked like they were having fun.

And so when the siren beckoned him down to the waters, Puk was more than happy to oblige. He pulled his legs up and disappeared momentarily, before he was plodding down the rocky slope to the waters where this woman was. He was slow, more akin to the great blue or grey whales of the deeper waters than the leaping orcas. Nothing about him said predator. Each step he took came with a careful choice of placement, avoiding the small weeds that grew in the cracks.

Once he was at water's edge, getting a closer look at this water woman, he smiled at her. "Hello. My name is Puk." He sat down on the stony shore, dangling his legs first into the water, "I've never sang before. I wasn't allowed." Puk leaned forward again, looking down into the crystal clear waters, seeing the bottom. It was deeper than he was tall, but it wasn't by much. And so, because she had requested it, he placed one hand on the stone and slid into the water. He dunked beneath the surface, quickly bobbing back up. Water flowed all through his messy curls, his face nothing but smile and excitement. He kept a steadying hand on the stony wall as he kicked and moved his free arm about.

"I'm not a very good swimmer. But I don't hear the whales singing? Do you sing?" His voice was curious and comforted, deep and low without any thought of threat or danger in it. Then he remembered what she said about him floating like a log. He didn't know if he could do that. He started kicking his legs slightly, so that they floated up and out front of him and he began to lean backwards. His eyes wide in surprise that it was working, but he still kept a steadying hand against the comfort of the stone nearby. He kept at it until he was, in fact, floating like a log like his new friend had suggested.

And in his new found buoyancy, he let his hand drop from the wall, bobbing in the calm tides here by the shore.