By the time she pulls herself from the ocean she feels as though she has been swimming for days. The water drips from her thick, silver waves, even after she shakes herself, and she can feel the salt as it begins to dry and harden against her skin. With a snort she clears the moisture from her nose and lifts her head.
She takes her first look at this place she has come to and begins to walk.
It is deep into the evening, judging by the way the sun is beginning to hug the horizon. The light is dull and the sky, clear and cloudless, is flushed with soft pink. Despite the late hour, the air retains enough heavy warmth to reveal that the day must have been long and hot.
Already, this fills Oksana with some apprehension. Her coat is thick and dense, gleaming wet and midnight-dark in the dim light, prepared to handle the frosty temperatures of her homeland rather than humid summer evenings. Both her body and her mind preferred the frost and ice to sun and sand.
She pauses beneath a small tree, its wide-reaching branches casting thick shadow over the flat, spacious common she has wandered into. The area is quiet and mostly empty. Wherever horses spend their nights on this island, it does not appear to be here. Regardless, the solitude suits her for now.
Beneath the leafy canopy, she shifts her weight to one side and allows herself to rest her eyes for a moment.