Giovanni was in poor shape, there was really no denying this fact as much as he may want to. Recent events had taken their toll and left the colossal feline thin and underweight, his green-gray pelt lacking the typical sheen of health and hanging looser around his bones that he would like. And for all the running away wandering he had done recently, his muscles had only become corded and wiry, and there was now a feral impression emanating from him that had never existed before. That made sense at least; the beast had never lived alone until recently, and the past several weeks he had been left to his own devices, without any distraction from the demons that haunted him. It was leaving its mark, molding the man into this new creature.

Only an unanticipated change in the wind had led the dark-haired lion down a narrow sandbar, leading him into a continent that absolutely brimmed with the scents and signs of strangers, the whole impression shimmering with possibility and potential and hope. His first reaction was to run away, but his second was to practice restraint, to simply skirt the edges of groups and territories, observing only from a distance. So that is what he did, and eventually made his way to a promising locale that did not seem as busy as the rest, at least in this moment.

Weariness pulled at his limbs as he made his way across the dark sands, the grains warm against his paws and invoking a rather pleasant feeling in his chest. If not for his empty belly, the man may have actually felt a semblance of peace in this moment, as he listened to the waves roll against the shore and the gulls call to each other above his head. However, it was not in the cards for the lion to hunt for himself tonight – no easy meals presented themselves at the moment, and so he would come to a stop several paces from the shoreline and settle onto his belly in the sand. Paws crossed in front of him, he would rest for now, and contemplate his future.

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Uncertain of this province and those in it—what felt like home was this shoreline, and the stars that overhung against perse and bruised heavens. At every hour, every passing of the sun, she found herself traveling there and there again. It grew to be a haven against the blathering noises of qualm and ambiguity—against the chaos of unspoken deprecation that brewed behind her twilight eyes.

But today, today there was another in her favoured place.

Do I—do.. It drowned, fettered by a growing doubt. Doubt against reality, against what her mind conjured for truth. She coughed, wanting yet not, to gather his attention.

He was in no better condition than she was, and there flourished a want of solidarity. She lingered, cautious as she approached. But the questions—always the questions—chewed at her cheeks, and gnawed at her tongue. Sheepish, her eyes fell from @Giovanni, gathering something stolid, a slight foundation of shame, but something enough to bridge broken thoughts to her lips. Do I know you? a happy ending, please
— ❖ —

Despite her small stature, the lioness was a pale contrast against the obsidian sands that snaked around this edge of the continent, making her easy to spot. Even with the hesitancy of her approach, she garnered the weary lion’s attention rather quickly, and perhaps it was her distinct reluctance and fallen gaze, or maybe the credit belongs to the sun-warmed sands working their magic to ease the natural tension from his disposition, but the earthen giant did not feel an immediate compulsion to retreat upon her discovery. Instead, his ears twitched forward in surprise and his posture shifts slightly, friction gathering in his joints as though in preparation to get up, but he remains on his belly as she speaks.

Her question is unexpected – not that the vagabond knew what to expect – and a crease forms above his brows as incomprehension replaces his wary curiosity, followed quickly by suspicion. No... I don't believe so. Do I seem familiar? He volleys a question back to her, his voice betraying a note of his confusion as he considers the small lioness. She seems in no better shape than he, and a quick assessment of their surroundings suggests that the beach remains empty of additional company—implying that this might not be an ambush. These small considerations left the lion at a loss, and as his focus lingers on the pale-haired stranger, he finds himself wondering if perhaps she was as lost as he.

@Camelia

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Her heart throttled—a trembling made more for a leaf than a lion.

She found herself drawing her tongue along her teeth, pushing at the backs of them as he replied. Shame warmed each apple of her cheek as she realized her mistake, it seemed so simple at first. Trusting in Gareth, it seemed logical to think there were many others in this place she’d known before—before what? Before when? Her mind was in tangles, and whatever echoes of memory were only further twisting and enmeshed deeper into chaos. Her lungs rattled in her chest with a heated inhale, considering what he’d asked. Her fervent shake of her head soon followed, I’m sorry…I-I have..

What?

A bad case of the crazies?

Yes, but you know—there was more to it than that.

You looked like someone I knew long ago, Was it a lie if you yourself couldn’t tell the difference? It was a half-truth, wasn’t it? She felt herself folding inwards, try as she might to rally against it. She forced a smile top him, as she took a step nearer. Being alone was becoming a chore, and she needed to know, needed to feel and smell and be made sure—he was no ghost, he was no figment of her broken mind.

I’m Camelia, So she smiled, her cheeks burning at the expression. This, for his benefit more than her own. Her best attempt at making sure @Giovanni didn't think she was absolutely mad. she tried once more to sound certain. Gareth sounded certain, and so must she.

It was her lie life, after all.a happy ending, please
— ❖ —

Her distress was palpable, suspended almost tangibly in the air between them and this, oddly enough, kept the giant’s own natural suspicions at bay. He remained supine in his bed of dark sand, not quite relaxed but not quite tense, and his bright eyes of teal and mahogany fixed to the light-haired woman with a distinct curiosity. A fervent headshake heralded the start of an explanation, but she cut herself off and Giovanni found himself wondering just what she had wanted to say at first, before she provided him with her official explanation.

I see, He replied in low tones, ears shifting back in the dark earthen strands of his mane as his haunches shift to the side, adopting a more relaxed posture despite his continued wary interest. I must admit, I don’t get that a lot. He confesses candidly, his tones low but warmer than they had been before; her temperament, perhaps it was the uncertainty emanated from her presence, urged him to a friendlier manner, inspiring this caretaker response that he had thought was long ago abandoned.

I'm Giovanni, He reciprocated the introduction before tilting his chin towards the blanket of obsidian sands surrounding them. Would you like to join me, Camelia? The sands are warm. He invites; it was a strange turn of events, the recluse voluntarily inviting a stranger into his company, but such it would be for now.

@Camelia

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I’ll have to admit, I’ve been saying it a lot. She regretted saying it.

Immediately she wished to bury her face in sand at their feet. She felt that growing tightness of immediate shame. Camelia simply couldn’t stop herself, and of course, it bade some manner of explanation behind her pained laugh.

Why was she so awkward?
I… I have a small issue with memory. The issue being, she didn’t seem to have any.

He didn’t need her life story—her face turned away from him as she settled near. The sand was warm. It was more than warm. It felt like home, despite the suns’ heat waning with the seasons—the sand was always warm, and welcoming and perfect.

And, for once, she didn’t have to enjoy it wholly alone.

She tried to think back before Gareth had found here there, but nothing. Only that oblique wall she somehow needed to climb over. At the very least, moments like this allowed her to work those unseen muscles, build newer memories with hope it might return the old: So… come here often?

The pale-haired woman’s words were intriguing to say the least, adding to the mystery that emanated from her. But they were also enough, thankfully for the earthen titan to reach a conclusion just as she would say out loud: she had trouble with memory. What a trouble to have, and a terrible and unwarranted sentiment of envy blossomed in his chest, dominating his emotions for a moment before he dismissed the feeling as foolish. Camelia clearly struggled with her burden, just as he did with his, and there was nothing to want from that. I’m sorry, He replied after a moment, his tone low and somehow both uncertain and gentle.

Although feeling unexpectedly glad for her company, the Santori said nothing further as she settled into the sands; only turning his gaze away from her as she kept her face deliberately turned from his. She remained in his peripheral as his turquoise hues flitted over the endless expanse of sea instead. This is my first time, He admitted as he wriggled his toes so that the dark sands filtered between them. I’m new to the area, but this beach seemed nice. In other words: no crowds. What about you? Ah, that is to say, do you recall visiting these sands before? He tilted his head back towards her, dual-toned gaze flitting to her face in curiosity as his brows drew together in a thoughtful mask as he wondered what had happened to cause the woman to lose her memory… or if she had always struggled with memory loss. Those curiosities, for the moment, remained silent in favor of the simple pleasantries they currently exchanged.

@Camelia

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hello, gorgeous.

Why? Did you cause it? A dark laugh, is all she could really muster. That felt real. It felt habituated, a muscle memory that was flexed and tested.

She spoke it with eased humour—far from forced, far from true accusation. The sarcasm laid thick in the inflection, hoping he’d find nothing but jest in it. As if this wasn’t clear enough, something from memory bubbled upwards to a rolling boil, the movement quick yet made as a friend would another—a jostle of her shoulder to ….well, almost his. She was rather small in comparison, a thought that woefully just occurred to her.

She found her smile, and her cheeks warmed in a way a mother’s touch might. She gave a soft sigh as she considered her reply. It didn’t take her long, No. She knew this one. Thankfully.

I come here daily, she drew in a sharp inhale. It went against every instinct she’d had, but honestly came easy. In this moment, at least. It seemed better to confront what it was behind her eyes, clouding each thought. It seemed better to share with @Giovanni. For whatever it was worth. Maybe it too would help her rediscover all that she'd lost.

I think I’ve been here before, though. if not these sands, but perhaps what adjoined them. Maybe, or maybe it was all dream. A dream of another place, another time.

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