I WALK MY DAYS ON A WIRE | joining

[GEORGIA.]

ooc i feel the need to apologize in advance because i haven't written anything in like a year so if this hurts your eyes: me too

ic Long had it been since Georgia took note of her surroundings.

The smell of the sea was always in her nose; the sound of the waves a constant in her ears. There were times where she wished the ache of the ocean would leave her - times when she feared she'd never smell anything but salt and brine for the rest of her life. But her senses lived and thrived on the rolling waves; as annoying as they were, the gentle blustering breezes and warm sand brought her undeniable comfort.

Georgia could recall when she was a little younger - a month or few ago - and she'd bounce about her father on the sea shore. He watched fondly as she flounced towards the water, flinging wet sand in all directions as the waves parted around her. She would learn of her elementals gradually, by her father's guiding hand and the tales of her mother. "She's always watching over you," he'd assure her.

Now, she was alone - bitter and salty and resentful of the power she wielded. Resentful of what it represented; resentful of the deity supposedly watching after her. There was nothing by the shoreline for Georgia anymore but empty memories and longing for a life she'd never know. Greek mythology was her heritage - and yet, she was so insignificantly small that she couldn't even be deemed a proper Nereid. Nereid's were mystical, playful and spritely; graceful and shy and all the sweet things of an eternal, immortal maiden. Georgia was bitter and angry and flawed in all the way the divine shouldn't be; she, a half-baked deity with no real purpose and a curse to bear.

Her anguish and bitterness followed her closely, clinging to her pale pelt like the curse so kindly bestowed upon her. Much like the churning of a wake by a boat, frothing waves slapped against the side of the small floating craft she had tucked herself into. She flicked them away, ears twitching in her annoyance. Much of these past few hours had gone by in a relative blur, her brain blissfully dissociating from the world in front of her. Georgia had very little idea what she was doing or how she got onto the boat, much less where she was going. And frankly, she didn't care much; there was no destination at the end of her journey.

The next few hours fell past her in a blur: open water, distant islands. Boredom clutching at her lungs so strongly she actually found herself in the water, using it to propel her towards the islands while the small boat and its handlers rowed on towards the larger ship in the far distance.

The moment her paws touched sand, Georgia felt the same bittersweet sensation of lonely-home-distant. The feline hauled herself onto the beach, green eyes sweeping across the expanse of jungle. She was assaulted by dozens of other animal scents, something strong enough that it overcame the humidity and sea water permeating her senses.

"How many animals can get washed up on the same island?" The girl mumbled to herself, chewing absently on her lip. The island seemed to have good resources, and Georgia wasn't particularly in the mood to vie for water and shelter - only, she was sure a feline who was still shedding baby fat and baby fur seemed like more of a target for food rather than competition. Her top priority was to clean up and get some sleep.