The sky that morning was grey. The air hung stagnant along the seemingly endless shore. It was quiet aside from the steady breath and break of the tide as it clawed it's way in, zealous for more land, and then exhausted from the efforts, swept back out. It was as if the creatures, both those on shore and those beneath the waves, knew the secret thoughts of the sea - the jealousy that raged within - for no beast could be seen, save three sparrows who drew little attention to themselves.
Without warning the atmosphere, sparked to life like lightning, came alive. The mouth of the ocean pulled back it's white-foam lips into a terrifying snarl and all at once spit forth a tangle of limbs struggling to stay upright. Her golden hair hung around her face, wild and unkempt. Her skin, smooth like silk, adorned in an opaque opalescent chemise, seemed to glow from within. It was as if the moon itself has brushed it's lips along her perfectly formed cheekbones, leaving stardust in it's wake. She was perfect, and if not for the vacant, troubled crease that sat upon her regal brow, untouchable.
The waves caught about her long limbs, at their masters bidding, but even still she remained upright, clinging to her garment. She stumbled once, twice, then righted herself. The breeze teased the long, golden rivulets that ran down her back. She faced the sea in question. Emptiness swallowed her thoughts. A dead end at every turn. She was a blank canvas, an experience that might have been comforting to some. But the throbbing ache to return to the waves from which she had just come seared beneath her ribcage, reckless and unexplained.
Seconds turned to minuets and the silence that once held hostage the shore returned. feeling suffocated and alone, but for the three sparrows that flit about her like a fowl-crown, she closed her eyes and bent to the sky. This was it then? This, her fate? A stranger to herself, cast ashore and left to wander?
So be it. She would find her way.