Rainy Nights && Ocean Views [open]

[calypso]

Standing on the beautiful shores gazing at the water, Calypso came to a desicion. Summer nights were much more enjoyable than Summer days, it was undeniable. The temperature during the day could get so unreasonalby hot, but as night came it tended to cool off [even if it was only a bit]. And to make things even better, it was raining, it made things much nicer and the weather more enjoyable. Calypso would have much prefered to have been roaming along the beach in her wolf form, but things were not as going as smoothly between all the species as she'd have been happy with. So she roamed in her human form, ankle deep in the water, prefering it's neutrality between causing unnessissary trouble with anyone whom she might run into. She ran a hand through her dark hair, the loose curls bouncing down her back to hang damply against her back. Her dark eyes gazed at the water, before she waded in up her waist. Her skirt clung to her legs and her tank top followed suit as it rapidly got soaked. This felt nice, she would have loved to stripe off the clothing that she wore and shift into her wolf form and simply frolic in the waves, something about chasing them was so much fun.

Glancing around and seeing no imediate signs of danger or potential danger the girl dove into the waves clothes and all, before coming back up completely soaked. She giggled as she moved to her feet, and twirled around in the water, enjoying the feel of the cleansing rain washing down her face and along her skin. She was childish, and imature at times, but it was simply part of who she was, and she had a lot of fun playing and goofing off. She didn't come off as all that sharp or intuitive to people, but it was her inopposing nature and way of managing to come off as unnoticed and peoples tendency to ignore her or disregard her pressence, was what came in useful. The dark haired werewolf flopped back into the water, allowing herself to just drift on the quietly crashing waves. She was bored, that was the reason she'd come here tonight. Nights like tonight left her with nothing much to do but sit and think, and when she had to sit and think, she usually ended up thinking about her missing brother or the past and that left her depressed. She hated to be anything but her usual chipper and cheerful self.

Moving back to the shore and letting herself fall back against the damp sand. Her wet clothing aranging itself around her messily, and her wet curls had tumbled down around her shoulders and against the sand. She lay there ignoring the odd looks of the few people passing by her eyes watching the heavens as it continued to rain down. She probably would have been content to simply lay there the entire night just watching the few visible stars, except one of the pairs of audible footsteps had paused behind her and approached her. Her natrual instinct was to bristle up, but she forced herself to relax, reminding herself she was just a touch paranoid.

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[alvan]

Sand was fascinating. So many trillions and trillions of particles that seemed to accumulate naturally in one area; walking through it was even more bizarre though quite entertaining. At some point, the lithe figure had pulled leather boots from his feet and tied the strings in knots to let them hang over his shoulder and leave his hands free. A gold-plated, ruby-studded walking cane was snugged into his palm, pressing deep into the loose grains as he strode barefoot on his toes. His attention having been solely on what was beneath him for quite some time, the presence and essence of another was what finally brought his attention back to reality. He paused, gaze sweeping over the coastline until bright blues settled on the drenched figure perched comfortably in the tide's wake not ten yards from him.

Nostrils flared a moment as he sorted out the mixture of aroma that this individual carried with her. Everyone had their own signature scent, and he was keenly aware of that fact. Propping the cane against his leg, it's purpose more for convenience than necessity, he smoothed the long black chords of hair atop his head into a carefully placed pony-tail, pulling a black elastic band from his wrist to wrap and secure it in place. He then took up the cane again and decided he was in the mood for conversation. He had yet to meet anyone since his arrival, and wasn't the type to wait for someone to approach him. Life was too short, of that he was quite familiar, though not on a personal level having lived for nearly a century thus far.

Long strides carried him from the dry dunes to the damp wake and in moments he was behind this new character. His head shifted at a subtle angle of curiosity as he rounded her left side though stood offset behind her left shoulder a few feet from where she sat. "Good swim?" His voice was thick, laden in a heavy Russian accent that was still discernible for most English speakers though clearly evident of his origins. The breeze picked up as the night air began to chill and he could only imagine how comfortable that could be against wet skin. To make matters worse, the rain seemed to go from a soft and steady pattern to that of an on-coming thunderstorm and the skies overhead began to darken in confirmation. He shifted his stare upwards as he surveyed the situation at hand, then noted that they were the tallest pieces of lightning-attractant for a mile or so up and down the beach. Personally, charbroiled canine was not what he had in mind that night. If it were to worsen, he would be finding himself trying to convince her to seek shelter soon.