How she loathed the ocean.

With great effort the strawberry girl rolled her body to the side, the salt stinging the insides of her nose as she inhaled brine that was cold enough to send a shiver down her spine. The ocean floor beneath her was gritty, the waves lapping gently around her, and once again the parisian lady found herself coated from head to toe in the salt she had, prior to meeting Pagan and Nephillim, so desperately wanted to rid her body of. Men were distractions, her mother had told her, and how she had been right. "Pour l'amour de baise," she grunted aggressively with her eyes blearily blinking away the water as she feebly raised her head to catch her breath. The swim had been far more violent than she had previously experienced, and now she felt she would be refined to the supposedly fine island of Tinuvel until she could gain the confidence to dive in again. This was something the proud mare would never admit openly - but all things considered, she assumed Nephillim would not mind her extending her initially proposed visit here. He seemed keen enough to entertain her, and that made him useful.

Pagan, however, was not a man she was willing to discard so quickly in favour for the golden boy. She had liked them both, and she would visit them both, and whichever stallion was fortunate enough to call her their own would have to agree to the condition of allowing her to roam the wintery island as often as she pleased.

As she lifted her red body to her hooves, a spark of fire against the cool tundra, she regarded the large span of beach before her with roused eyes. She had completed the end of her swim alone, her shorter legs unable to keep up with the spotted boy who had led her here, the waves carrying her away as she tried to keep close. Now, she could not see him near. The light was dimming - the swim must have taken her some time, dawn had fled long ago and the sun hung low in the sky indicating that the early hours of evening were beginning to creep in. Stepping out of the surf, she took this lonely moment to make herself somewhat presentable, flicking her forelock out of her eyes and gently shaking the excess water from her aching body before treading further into the open expanse of land before her.

And then, she waited, her breath trailing small turrets of steam into the cool air.