Falls

He wakes to the sound of water, which isn't uncommon given his proclivities. What is strange is the fact that he is settled against the roots of a leaning oak rather than comfortably submerged beneath the surface of the river burbling happily passed his hooves. He makes no moves to rise, instead turning his blank gaze from the glimpses of the waterfall he can see through the forest greenery on his left to the tree-fall clearing on his right.

This wasn't his beach.
This wasn't even his swamp, he had no idea where he was.

Everything from the taste of the air to the feel of the earth was unknown to him, ears slowly pinning against his skull as he assessed this new reality. He no longer felt the pull of the ocean; no longer felt the itch of his gills, no longer felt the bright life of his brother-god thrumming just beneath his skin. He misses these things but only vaguely; it wouldn't be the first time his kelpie blood was stipped of him.

He is surprised by how much he misses the weight of Selke's life where it used to settle warm across his shoulders, No finally deciding to push himself to his hooves with a sigh. He shakes himself, and steps down to the river's edge not to drink but to wade. He settles somewhere about shin deep, the insistent tug of the current as soothing as fingers combing through ones mane, his bramble tangled tail fanning out in dirty curls across the surface.