Welcome to Gaia! ::

Tanarah tuckered low, fingertips to the sand, one leg braced behind the other as she drew a breath. One, two…

Three!

And she was off, kick starting into a dash across the beach. After her first failed encounter with a nest of ysali on her own, Tanarah felt, if anything, invigorated. Motivated, and spurned by the physical evidence that she had a ways to go yet. But she could get there, with enough drive. With that attitude, she pushed her body forward, bare feet beating over the hard, wet sand directly where the surf licked inwards to rush over her toes on impact, only to to be driven faster, faster. As her lungs began to sting with want, a grin edged up at the corners of her lips, and she started making goals to pace of her breath as it swept in and out.

That rock, just that rock up ahead—come on, be there yesterday. And then, as that one was passed, the next, and another: that mound of sand or that pile of driftwood, where that bird is standing, where the sea foam just ran to, and whatever you do, don’t stop.

So focused in her own challenge did she become, that Tanarah almost didn’t notice the body until she was all but literally upon him, and hop, skip, stagger-skidding to a stop in the wet sand in order to turn a stare on it. Were they dead? But no. Closer inspection immediately confirmed otherwise, and Tana squinted, edging up closer to the dry sand to get a better peek a the—boy? It could have been either, she supposed, but something made her guess boy, and she spent a pause catching her breath before dusting her hands over herself—and then promptly moving to stand in his sun and cast her shadow on his face, in hopes it might rouse him.

Dovaa, from the looks of things. And young.

She wondered if he was an orphan, or lost, or a refugee, being that the increasing tension between the races seemed to be giving rise to ever more of those. “Hey, you,” she greeted, toeing his shoulder for emphasis. “This is my beach. Are you lost? I can tell you which way town is.” Frowning as a slightly closer inspection brought welts and bruises to her attention, she folded her arms. “Do you need a healer? You look awful.”

Tanarah blinked, and then squinted suspiciously. “I don’t care,” she said. “You just look like you got clobbered by somethin’ big and nasty. It’s pretty obviously, lookin’ at you. And sure I do. My daddy’s a healer. The best there ever was. Ever, in all the continents. He could fix all your little dinky wounds right quick like.”

She tilted her head, debating and resisting the urge to glance down the shoreline to where, eventually, the beach lead back to their house. On the one hand, the boy looked fairly bent out of shape, and she was fairly certain her fathers wouldn’t mind such a young guest, even unexpected, since he seemed to need help. On the other, she knew well enough — even at age nine — that the relationship her fathers had wasn’t approved of by all, particularly in regards to her Papa’s mixed blood, and revealing their home to ‘just anyone’ was dangerous in its own right.

She nibbled at her lower lip, tugging at an ear and frowning.

“It’s just, if you’re not lost, then I dunno what you’re doin’ this far out,” she said at length. “You don’t look like a soldier. Where’re your parents? What’re you doin’ here on my beach?” A pause. “And what's your name?”

“Tanarah,” Tana answered without pause. “And I ask ‘cause it’s good to know things. Just ‘cause you talk to someone doesn’t mean you suddenly think they’re super special. It’s good to know what’s goin’ on. Doesn’t mean I care about you, just don’t wanna not know.”

She shifted her weight, tilting it to one hip and nocking her head to one side as she did.

“I know my daddy’s the best because everyone here comes to him, and he’s willing to heal anyone. Not like other healers, who only take and choose the people they like. He’s a real healer. And, he’s a master. Lord Marcus Ysaride himself did his dragon ritual with him…so he could eat you, if he wanted. But he wouldn’t, ‘cause he’s nice. Nicer’n me, anyhow.”

She paused again, considering the boy before her before continuing.

“My daddy is dovaa…he might know, if you talked to him, where your grandparents are if you know their family name. He used t’ live on the Plane. And, if you’re lookin’ for a better place to lay than the sand, or you’re hungry…” She trailed off, figuring that was suggestion enough. If he seemed unappreciative, maybe she could just leave him in the sand. He wasn’t exactly her responsibility after all, and he had said himself that he wasn’t lost.

Tanarah’s eyelids narrowed into thin slits. Eat her…liver? Was this boy serious? Where had he even come from? Who had raised him? Did he even know what a liver was? A moment after that thought came and went, she wondered if he knew what a liver tasted like, and quickly dismissed that musing as well.

“Wanting to know because you can is a good reason,” she asserted, mostly because it sounded as though he didn’t believe her. “Why else should you want to know something? To change the world? To write a book? To hurt people? Sometimes you never know what you might need to know later, so learnin’ first when you can is best…anyway. I do think my daddy might know, ‘cause he knew lots of people and knows lots of people, and still has family that lives up there. C’mon…”

For better or for worse, she offered a hand, reaching out to him to help him up.

“I’ll show you the way. You’re too small to ‘eat my liver’, anyhow, stupid. And if you tried, I’d break your face. Our house is way down the beach, and if you’re real bad, Daddy or Papa can just dump you off out in the ocean where no one can find you. But if you’re good…maybe you could have dinner with us. And you can meet my sister.” Tana grinned. “I bet she’d like meeting someone new, too. So long as you don’t say you’ll eat her.” She accompanied the closing comment with a warning glance, which she hoped conveyed her desire that he do no such thing if he made it within range of her twin.