in tenebris est veritas.
Chaele draws a hunting knife, its patina glinting in the distant arclight, then presses its edge into the base of the shell. She twists it there until she has carved a crude hole in the calcite, busying her hands as she listens attentively to Hadama’s descriptions. She will do this to each shell until they can be threaded onto the double length of knotted seagrass, dabbing the construct with wax to better hold it together.
“Then may steadfastness join endurance and patience, so that this be a talisman of promises kept, and mettle tested, and dedications met.” She lifts it delicately out of the sand then, like a sort of necklace, and continues upward until she has risen to her feet. Turning her back to him for a few moments’ fuss, she ties the seagrass at the back of her head and dons the sea lion’s whiskers in a freshly made mask.
With her large dark eyes exposed to the moonlight, the little runic scars are apparent on her forehead and chin. Her hands fuss with the laces of her skirts, stripping them down to the lightest underlayer. “Now what was this you were saying about a swim?”
“Then may steadfastness join endurance and patience, so that this be a talisman of promises kept, and mettle tested, and dedications met.” She lifts it delicately out of the sand then, like a sort of necklace, and continues upward until she has risen to her feet. Turning her back to him for a few moments’ fuss, she ties the seagrass at the back of her head and dons the sea lion’s whiskers in a freshly made mask.
With her large dark eyes exposed to the moonlight, the little runic scars are apparent on her forehead and chin. Her hands fuss with the laces of her skirts, stripping them down to the lightest underlayer. “Now what was this you were saying about a swim?”
