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Zephyiote would have liked to lay there longer. But the drive to continue outweighed the pleasure of calm, and she pushed herself to her feet, shaking gingerly to dislodge the wet grass sticking to her. "We should get going..." she murmured, starting to trot off in the direction of their beach campground. "Come join me when you are ready!" she called over her shoulder, weaving her way through the trees.

The sand was pleasant and warm underfoot. It was tempting to lay down again. But she would ignore that want. She had learned through repetition to ignore that which she wanted. Survival was easiest that way. She shouldered the pack she had so recently dug through, scolding herself for forgetting to refill the canteens. Oh well. There was a little water left. And if they flew at a half decent pace...they could go to the fire island, and be back sometime in the early evening. Besides, it wasn't like they needed to drink every day. Though under optimal conditions she would.

She picked up a handful of sand, and let it trickle through her fingers. Marveling at how so many thousands of individuals could make up one flow. To thinkn of all the grains of sand on the beach! One could spend an entire lifetime counting them and never be done!

She shook her head, trying to focus back on their flight plan for the day...it was with reluctance. She was eager for action! She hoped Florica would get back soon, so they could leave.

Zephyiote laughed, and found it to be rather pleasant. When she laughed...her side didn't bother her so much. She would try hard to put herself in a better mood. "Thank you for your consideration, but the pack is not nearly as heavy as it was when we set out. I shall be fine."

Zephyiote loved taking off almost as much as she loved flying. But she didn't want to put any strain on her side by using her wings. She would use the Pan'Lun method. Which, while not as fun, was much easier, and less work for her body. She simply seemed to rear up, and kick off, sliding through the air like a massive serpent, her wings still pinned to her side. She missed the feel of the air on them. The way she hung for a brief moment in the struggle of gravity versus lift. The way the air gathered, bundled, and rolled underneath sensitive wing membrane. It was a brilliant thing. But it wasn't a big deal. Rather take it easy than to over-work herself. It wasn't like she'd have any place to rest over the expanse of ocean they were crossing.

"Let us go!" she cried, a triumphant smile on her face, now that her goal was so close to fruitition. An army of paints couldn't stop her now! She clapped her hands together a few times, worming around in the air leisurely. She waited a moment, before turning, and heading off at a steady pace towards where she knew the island to be.

It will not be long now...

"Quite an adventure we have had, eh? I am curious as to what will befall us once we get to the island."

Dozens of words came to mind when Zephy saw the infamous island. Not one of them was pleasant. The rock itself seemed malformed, and damaged. It was blackened in some places, gouged, and thrown about haphazardly. They seemed to suck in the light, and the color was a dirty rust red against the darkening sky. Even the water seemed hostile. While over the ocean, Zephyiote had fancied the ocean beautiful. While the sun was setting, it was a myriad of pastel brilliance, pinks and purples and blues and oranges. But it was as if the island itself was sucking life and color from its surroundings. For the water appeared grey, stagnant, and dead. It was rather disheartening. The great beast of rock seemed to be reaching a giant stony hand out to them, obsidian finger speres projecting up into the sky like the battle ramparts on a castle. Was the hand truly welcoming them. Was it saying that she belonged in an ugly place like this? Or, perhaps...was it the beginning. The angler's lure before it snaps up its prey. Zephyiote felt a little shiver down her spine, but decided not to share her thoughts with Florica. Fears were best kept to oneself.

She looked over at Florica and forced a smile, hoping the other Painter would assume it a hundred percent sincere. Zephyiote had always wanted this, but...she was uneasy. Anxious. Scared. This was the culmination of a lot of things. What if she didn't find what she was looking for? She darted ahead, making a soft landing on the sand. The water lapped at her feet, and she shied away from it. It was warm as blood.

"Are you coming?" Zephyiote called out to Florica, hoping that her actions had answered her companion's questions. It would be dark soon. Zephyiote wanted to be asleep before then. She didn't want the...pleasure... of seeing the island at night. She wanted to be asleep by then.

She picked her way up the beach, the sand coarse and grating against her feet. Her face twitched, betraying her annoyance at her less than ideal surroundings, as she settled on top of a boulder with a flat spot barely large enough for her to curl up on. It was better than sleeping on a pile of rocks, but it was hardly comfortable.

This is...strange. Her appetite wasn't with her, and even if she was hungry, she didn't feel like she could bring herself to eat. Not in this godforsaken place at the edge of the world. No. She would wait. She pulled off her pack, but held it ready, in case Florica should like a little something.

"Are you hungry at all?" she called out.