Puddle adapted easily, its movements subtly different on land, weight redistributing, glow muted to a dusk-friendly hue. It no longer looked like a creature out of place. It looked like something learning—curious, alert, unafraid.
They reached a small plateau as the sun slipped closer to the horizon. From here, the coast curved away in both directions, and inland, the land opened into rolling terrain marked by distant silhouettes—ruins, perhaps, or old watchtowers softened by time.
Caria stopped and sat on a fallen stone, exhaling slowly. "We should rest," she said. Not tired—wise.
Rhys nodded and settled nearby, stretching his shoulders. For the first time since leaving the water, he noticed the faint ache in his muscles, the honest fatigue of a body that had been fully present for a long time.
He welcomed it.
As the light faded, the quiet thread stirred.
Not pulling.
Not calling.
Just… acknowledging.
