Welcome to Gaia! ::

Tanarah combed her fingers through her hair, shutting her eyes and shuffling as she did. For all that the method leading to her new look was unorthodox and unplanned at best, she found that, in the end, she didn’t mind it. Quite the contrary, after her frustrations settled, she would even go so far as to that say she liked it. It was light with an airy, open feel. Easy to brush. Cool in the desert heat. And different. Not another student, male or female, in her class had a similar look, and while she had seen it before on the occasional traveller or city resident, it was uncommon enough that she stood out.

And she decided she liked that.

With it, of course, came her clan choice, and while it, too, had been unanticipated — her having thought that surely, eventually, she would choose either ayrala or gaili in the end — she found that perhaps, this was meant to be after all. In truth, despite all their marvelous practicality, something had always seemed missing when she contemplated either of her previous primary choices. They came with great utility, certainly, and would have enabled her to do a great many things. But fire, she thought, simply felt right inside her. A flickering ember in her blood, ready at all times to blaze up.

This didn’t, unfortunately, mean it was easy to control or even call on at will. Her magic seemed to have a mind of its own so far and a will as defiant as her own. But those, she felt certain, were passing grievances. It was her element, and she would control it. In time.

Meanwhile, she enjoyed the sight of her eyes, no longer a childish lavender pink but a deep, vibrant red, and the change to her scales, horns and hair. The transformation felt like a rite of passage — her final one, before progression into the first stages of adulthood. So, despite all the trials that had come with it, in the end, she was happy.

“…Tanarah?”

Tana half-jumped, turning towards the voice in a startled spin. Paying more attention to the approach of others was still something she needed to work on — something Li berated her for frequently. She squinted at her friend. “Danaiu.”

“I didn’t mean to startl—”

“You didn’t.”

He eyed her through narrowed lids, his expression torn between disbelief and unrelated surprise. Eventually, he seemed to abandon that line of topic, however, and transitioned instead to: “What happened to your hair?”

Tanarah straightened her posture and leaned back a fraction, shrugging and privately glad for the easy subject change. “It got a bit burnt…so I cut it.”

“A bit—”

“I fought some firani dragons. There was a little too much heat to go around…I like it,” Tana said, shuffling her fingers again through her hair and then shooting him a grin. “It didn’t burn the rest of me up, and the new version is more comfortable. Kind of like…” She shook her head, tossing the loose ends about and flashing him a look from beneath the result, “…rugged, pirate-like. Rawr.”

Danaiu shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyeing her. “It’s…not bad, I guess.”

“It’s great,” Tanarah said. “And, guess what else happened while you were out?” She accentuated the question with two punches to his shoulder, earning a snort and then his fingers around her wrist, catching. As he opened his mouth, however, she answered, “I’m an adept now. So, you gotta take orders from me, since I’m higher rank now, hm?”

Danaiu scoffed. After opening his mouth again, however, he still hesitated — long enough to make Tanarah wonder what was passing through his mind. Then, he dropped his grip on her wrist. “Why don’t you come for a walk with me.”

For a moment, Tanarah only stared. “A…walk?” She shot him an odd look. “To where? Why? Now?”

If anything, Danaiu looked abashed, which was a strange emotion to see on him to begin with, and then he fidgeted, and Tanarah wondered if he was sick. “Just to talk a bit?” he said. “I just want to talk,” he repeated, firmer the second time, but Tana remained unconvinced.

“Talk. ‘Bout somethin’ that we can’t talk about right here, for some reason?”

Danaiu rolled his shoulders, eyeing her. At length, he shrugged, and started on down the beach. “Suit yourself.”

Tanarah, baited by some infuriating combination of curiosity and bemusement, trailed him, huffing indignantly. “You could have just asked.”

“I did ask.”

“You could just tell me what you’re up to,” Tana amended. “Maybe I don’t have all day to be taking long walks down the beach.”

“Won’t be long.”

“You didn’t even say as much as that earlier. So I couldn’t know.”

But, despite all, they continued along, down the shoreline until they reached the rockier portion, and then out, on to the small cove that hooked inward from there, like a small selection of the cliffside scooped out low along the water and filled largely with the in-rolling surf. Just inside the cove’s lip and on its bank, Danaiu paused.

Tanarah watched him.

The ocean lapped the rock.

Into the cove’s mouth, the sea breezes gusted.

At length, she folded her arms.

“Well?” she said.

Danaiu glanced to her. He opened his mouth, hesitated again, and then reached. Tanarah couldn’t have said exactly how long the following progression of events took, or even the precise order of it all, but it seemed to be something like this: his fingers touched her neck; he leaned, tugging; his lips touched hers; she stared for an interim blank pause of approximately a half second.

Then her fist connected with his face.

She reeled back at some point, he yelped—or squawked—or cursed—or all of those things, and then they were both shouting at each other at once.

“What were you doing?”

“What was that for? Goddess—owww…”

“You—”

“It was only a kiss—”

“Aye, but why?”

“I’m not as sure now.”

“You coulda given me a bit of warning.”

“You’re not supposed to give warnings with things like this, you just…sort of do it—”

“Oh, aye, you’d know, since that’s workin’ out so well for you this far, isn’t it?” Tana quipped, and Danaiu shot her a glower, muttering beneath his breath as he lifted a hand to rub at his nose and ********…” He squinted at his hand. “Is it…bleeding?”

She eyed him. And immediately after, the corner of her lips twitched up, eyes sparking with amusement. “Aye, it is.”

His expression was pinched. “You don’t have to look so pleased about it—”

“Shall I look disappointed, then?” Tanarah grinned, amusement only growing as she hitched her weight back again and dropped hands to her hips with a hum. “So…you like me, then, do you?”

Danaiu scowled. “You’re not so good at lookin’ disappointed.”

“You do like me—”

“I don’t know about all that now, you just socked me—”

But Tana leaned in anyway, crowding his space enough quiet him and then tilting her head. When she spoke again, it was quieter. “You like me.”

His huff sounded louder in the silence than it likely was, and he was still frowning, but the severity of it had eased. “Maybe I just thought you could use a lesson in kissin’.”

“Doesn’t seem so,” Tana retorted, still amused. “Seein’ as you’re shite at kissing.”

“I didn’t get half a chance—”

“Maybe I’ll show you how, huh?”

“Maybe I’ll sock you—”

She leaned. He shifted to throw a punch. She ducked. There was a swing, and a catch, but then he was pushing, and her back hit the cavern wall. She sniggered.

He pursed his lips. “If you don’t want—”

She kissed him. In retrospect, she wasn’t fully sure what she expected. There was certainly no shortage of hype about kissing. Her sister evidently got excited about it. How magical it was, and exciting, sparks and giddy emotions—and so on, and so forth. None of that happened. It was just sort of…

Still.

When it broke, she eyed him. “Well. I don’t know about you, but I think I found the socking to be more exciting.”

His expression was, in her opinion, beyond description. “Have you never been kissed before?”

She squinted. “No…? But it doesn’t seem real complicated, and I—”

“How ‘bout we just…let’s—we’ll practice, alright?”

For a pause, she just eyed him. Dubious, and assessing. At length, however, she agreed, and the process got a little better. She wondered, though, if the whole ordeal might have been just a bit more exciting if there was a little more to it.

That, she supposed, could be explored later.