la sirène; dragana hung beneath the shadows of a palm tree, its body sagging after a storm bent it down. around her, water lapped at her paws, the salty coolness of its touch was a wonderful break from the sun's heat. she allowed the idleness to seep into her as she basked underneath the shade. it had been a long journey; from the coast of gorgon to the coast of amaryllis. she had swum, settled on isles, and swam some more - clumsily, whilst her life teetered on the edge with the gaping maw of death lingered below. all of the lessons her parents taught her kept her head high and her life fettered to her soul, though in the end, it was simply luck that kept her alive. she was half-wet, still, with the sea clinging onto her dark pelt. the freckles scattered across her face had multiplied, from barely a few specks to a fine dusting of them over the past few months. dragana never truly looked like either of her parents and her inability to swim properly was laughable. and yet the sea carried her here, spat her out onto a shoreline before it withdrew. little did she know of this land beyond the scent that covered the edge of the territory. her nose scrunched as she shifted, restlessness quickly gathering within her limbs. she wanted to move away, but she was tired, and a bout of fatigue had settled in as well. she may have left her watery coastal home, but the sea itself was never gone from her life. even though she hated it, she still found herself inexplicably drawn towards it. so she lurked, restless, tired, and hoping that someone would pluck her away, forcibly if they have to. for she was in no hurry, no hurry at all. ooc note: she's not over the border! just near it c:

Basking in the sun has been a favored pastime of hers' since her arrival at the Lagoon, though in truth she has been partaking even before that. The sun of her homeland, however, was not quite the same, its' heat reduced by the cold of the earth it encountered. That sunbathing had been to lessen the ever-present cold; this sunbathing made her warm, and lulls her for the best naps she has experienced since milk comas. At the moment though, she hasn't stretched out somewhere in the grass. On her paws and moving, instead, meandering along the beach.

Chin lifted, she closes her eyes for a moment and focuses on the comfortable heat against her dark nose, nostrils twitching as she inhales the salty breeze appreciatively. The action brings something more than the smell of seafood and salt to her, however. Tilting her skull downward, she alters her course to track the scent. It doesn't smell of Scilla or Obsidian, and that sets off alarm bells in her brain. Ears slicking to her neck, tail lashing at her heels, the girl pauses as the scent grows stronger, swiveling her head to peer around.

Barely visible in the shadow of foliage, Ursula just happens to catch the restless shuffle of the stranger, the movement drawing her searching gaze to the source. Flicking an ear forward, the yearling reviews her options and decides on the safer of them all. Glancing down, she flexes a forepaw to carefully grasp a seashell between the pads before swinging her arm out and around from her body to chuck it closer to the stranger. She hopes the plop of it back into the sand is enough noise to draw the other's attention over the sound of the waves. Urs really didn't want to get close enough to get scratched for scaring someone.

@Dragana

code by corvus

OOC NOTE: Ohhhh boy this is late I'm very sorry gkjdkg

There was no call to draw Magnus to his borders; rogues would usually announce their presence, but this one was being quiet. Coy behaviour, perhaps, and something that could earn suspicion.... But as the Jarl neared, noting the presence of not only the unfamiliar shape but @Ursula too, it became clear that something was... off. Recalling her sisters explanation of the Bezra girl's disability, Magnus would deliberately move himself into the brunette's eyeline and incline his head, seeking to make eye contact momentarily - blinking - before turning to focus on @Dragana. She seemed.... off-colour, to say the least. "Are you well?" It was a simple question - and one Magnus most likely knew the answer to already - but it would open the floor for some sort of conversation.

He wasn't one for small talk, and he imagined that Ursula wasn't either.

irish