Propmt:
There were many things he could do when he came to the coast.
He could race the waves until foam curled around his paws, dive beneath the surface to chase silver fish through the kelp, or climb aboard a ship and let the wind carry him far beyond the horizon. But those were not the reason he came.
For all the beauty of the sea, being its guardian came with no shortage of obligations. There were tides to tend, storms to temper, currents to guide, and countless creatures whose lives depended upon the waters remaining in balance. Even a deity needed a moment to breathe. So, whenever he could, he left his duties behind.
Whenever the tides carried him near the coast, he would leave the roaring surf behind and follow the waterways inland, slipping through rivers and narrow channels until the salty scent of the sea began to fade, and the lingering taste of saltwater gradually disappeared. The journey was always long, but that was part of the pleasure. With every mile, there was less to worry about. No prayers calling his name. No sailors demanding fair winds. No storms waiting for his attention. Just water, and there was something comforting about traveling from one kind of water to another.
Eventually, the sunlight would disappear beneath the canopy of trees, and the familiar darkness of Coor’s domain would welcome him. The sea was his to wander, vast and beautiful and ever-changing. But Coor’s waters felt different. Older. Still. But somehow familiar.
“You’re late,” his cousin would inevitably murmur from the darkness of some ancient lake or cavern.
He would merely grin. “The sea was particularly stubborn today.”
Coor never seemed to mind his excuses.
Their visits were rarely grand. Sometimes they wandered through submerged caverns, exchanging stories of the creatures that lived in their respective waters. Sometimes they sat beside a quiet lake and watched the surface ripple overhead. And sometimes they did nothing at all.
Those were his favorite visits. Here, there was no need to be a god. He could complain about troublesome sailors, gossip about strange things he’d seen beneath the waves, or simply stretch out beside his cousin and enjoy the rare luxury of silence. Coor understood better than most what it meant to belong to the water, and perhaps more importantly, what it meant to need a little time away from it.
Eventually, of course, the sea would call him home.
But he never hurried back. For a little while longer, the tides could manage themselves.
And so, whenever he visited the coast, it wasn’t the promise of sailing, seafood, or adventure that drew him there.
It was the knowledge that somewhere beyond the shoreline, through winding rivers and ancient waters, his cousin was waiting.
And for a little while, he could simply be family.
Smamm
Username:
Smamm
Kia's name:
Poseidon
Propmt:
There were many things he could do when he came to the coast.
He could race the waves until foam curled around his paws, dive beneath the surface to chase silver fish through the kelp, or climb aboard a ship and let the wind carry him far beyond the horizon. But those were not the reason he came.
For all the beauty of the sea, being its guardian came with no shortage of obligations. There were tides to tend, storms to temper, currents to guide, and countless creatures whose lives depended upon the waters remaining in balance. Even a deity needed a moment to breathe. So, whenever he could, he left his duties behind.
Whenever the tides carried him near the coast, he would leave the roaring surf behind and follow the waterways inland, slipping through rivers and narrow channels until the salty scent of the sea began to fade, and the lingering taste of saltwater gradually disappeared. The journey was always long, but that was part of the pleasure. With every mile, there was less to worry about. No prayers calling his name. No sailors demanding fair winds. No storms waiting for his attention. Just water, and there was something comforting about traveling from one kind of water to another.
Eventually, the sunlight would disappear beneath the canopy of trees, and the familiar darkness of Coor’s domain would welcome him. The sea was his to wander, vast and beautiful and ever-changing. But Coor’s waters felt different. Older. Still. But somehow familiar.
“You’re late,” his cousin would inevitably murmur from the darkness of some ancient lake or cavern.
He would merely grin. “The sea was particularly stubborn today.”
Coor never seemed to mind his excuses.
Their visits were rarely grand. Sometimes they wandered through submerged caverns, exchanging stories of the creatures that lived in their respective waters. Sometimes they sat beside a quiet lake and watched the surface ripple overhead. And sometimes they did nothing at all.
Those were his favorite visits. Here, there was no need to be a god. He could complain about troublesome sailors, gossip about strange things he’d seen beneath the waves, or simply stretch out beside his cousin and enjoy the rare luxury of silence. Coor understood better than most what it meant to belong to the water, and perhaps more importantly, what it meant to need a little time away from it.
Eventually, of course, the sea would call him home.
But he never hurried back. For a little while longer, the tides could manage themselves.
And so, whenever he visited the coast, it wasn’t the promise of sailing, seafood, or adventure that drew him there.
It was the knowledge that somewhere beyond the shoreline, through winding rivers and ancient waters, his cousin was waiting.
And for a little while, he could simply be family.
2026-09-28 18:08:05
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