welcome to the end of eras | joining

[GEORGIA.]

While Georgia was still settling in herself, she'd begun to assemble a routine of sorts. She functioned better on one - let her move throughout her day with some purpose instead of an aimless wander. She'd finally moved out of the tavern and into one of the rooms aboard the ship; the rock of the sea helped her to sleep at night. The ship was mostly reserved for members of the Grim Rays division, as she had learned, and she was eager to start on a path to reach that title and enrollment. She took nightly walks after dinner, making sure to shuffle through the fluffy sand before edging closer to the gentle waves where the sand was packed harder and more firm. She'd watch the fish dance about in the shallows, walking a yard or so into the surf and using her power to push the water away from her so she could observe them up close. It was important to her that the shallows and shores of her beaches were safe and functioning.

Unfortunately, that was really where her crafting of a schedule stopped. She'd been wrestling with the idea of decorating her new cabin in the ship and whether or not she was really to stay here. She liked it well enough, but it hadn't satisfied the curse that itched under her skin. She still felt detached and lost - like she didn't belong.

To cope with these thoughts, Georgia had started to nap more often; she could never get enough of the heat the beach sand offered. It was on this day in particular that she had just started to stretch out, sand climbing into all the bits of her fur that she'd blow out later. It was her favorite texture; she couldn't stay away from it.

And then, just on the other side of the treeline, a commotion startled the girl out of her sleepy state.

Instantly, her mood soured. Instantly, she was up, rather irritated at the amount of strangers that were appearing on this island (even if she was just another one) and the fact that people had to monitor who they were and what they wanted. Muttering through grit teeth under her breath, Georgia stalked back into the treeline to find the trespasser who was so desperately begging for her attention.

The second she came across the stranger, she wasted no time in attempting to blast him backwards with a gust of air. The gust was warm and held flecks of sand in it, bitter with sea salt. He was, after all, over their borders. "Hey genius," The slim feline bit out, ears ticked backwards in her annoyance. "The hell do you want?" Georgia could feel her irritation mounting - her interrupted nap, his fucking arrogance, his smug expression. She really couldn't give a damn about what he wanted, in all honesty; and while diplomacy had never been her strong point, she wanted nothing more than to drown him.