Flowers were often admired at a distance, where they bloomed upon the shore, out of reach of the sea. Those that fell into the waves, dropped by wind or birds, were quickly washed to pieces by the action of wave and current. Chaele's constructed flower was a curious piece of art, though just as ephemeral in its own way. Still, it was the fire that drew his curiosity moreso than the patterns in the sand.
He raised his eyes to meet hers through the skull's openings as she spoke, unperturbed by her assumptions. "It is likely older than her," he said in response, and his tail lashed lazily through the shallows as he held the cathedral in his mind's eye. "But it is not natural." The words were spoken with a simple assurance of decades in its presence. It was too perfect, too symmetrical, for it to have been anything other than intentional.
The flower came apart more quickly than it had been crafted, and Hadama's green eyes gleamed with quiet amusement behind his stoic expression at her answer. "That will not be necessary. But the tide will turn soon. It matters less, if you can still swim to shore once it does." So long as the night-dark waters hid nothing worse than a thoughtful mermanta ray.
"Are these patterns part of your magic?" A curious nod of his chin towards the new shape now growing beneath the candle's wavering light.
He raised his eyes to meet hers through the skull's openings as she spoke, unperturbed by her assumptions. "It is likely older than her," he said in response, and his tail lashed lazily through the shallows as he held the cathedral in his mind's eye. "But it is not natural." The words were spoken with a simple assurance of decades in its presence. It was too perfect, too symmetrical, for it to have been anything other than intentional.
The flower came apart more quickly than it had been crafted, and Hadama's green eyes gleamed with quiet amusement behind his stoic expression at her answer. "That will not be necessary. But the tide will turn soon. It matters less, if you can still swim to shore once it does." So long as the night-dark waters hid nothing worse than a thoughtful mermanta ray.
"Are these patterns part of your magic?" A curious nod of his chin towards the new shape now growing beneath the candle's wavering light.
