Night time. Good. The sand was cold under his back, still slightly damp from walking in and out of his half buried home with soaking feet and pants legs. There was a slight tapping against glass and his eyes opened just enough to look over at the tank that lined one of his walls. The blue of his eyes gave off a soft azure glow as did the permanent vein like markings on his skin. A spindly tail was rapping against the edge of the tank and he sat up; legs pulling to his chest as he stretched his arms over his head until there was a satisfying pop.
He yawned, one hand scratching slowly through his mess of hair. Some of it tangled around his fingers, a few places were already crystallizing from the constant soak of sea water. Pushing up, he walked deeper into the covered pit that was his home, all the while the tail glided along the glass to eagerly follow him. He smiled but kept his attention directed to one of the many ceramic jars before him, “I hear you…”
The tapping picked up before cutting out in pitiful defeat. Soft dried krill filled his palm as he gently dumped some of it from the jar and moved with careful strides to the tank. The horseshoe crab inside shuffled close to the edge once more, it’s tail tapping at a constant now as it waited. Dorian moved his hand in, gently taking it and turning it to expose its under belly before carefully rubbing the krill against its underside. Quick pincers took the stragglers, moving them to its hungry mouth and he looked on with admiring eyes, “There. See? Now be still.”
Careful fingers turned the creature over correctly and he rubbed the water and remnants on his frayed pants legs. The sea glass that made up the shore level windows of his home revealed the rising moon. A slow smirk widened on his lips as he reached for his satchel. The feeding hour would be soon, and he had limited time to go…shopping, so to speak.
His fingers moved up to his mouth and his tongue lapped along the tips, still tasting the water and krill. On his way out, he ran those fingers along the stone plaque that was mounted just inside the entrance. After so many times doing this, he still wanted to keep his focus and strength and a little requested help from the powers that be never hurt.
He moved up the packed sand stairs that led him out and felt more exposed. With his glowing eyes and near scratch like markings, he knew he’d be easy to spot. Luckily hardly anyone paid you mind here, but he’d revel in any physical confrontation that might come his way. A man had to find a way to get his exercise after all, it couldn’t all be conventional.
First things first, he needed to get far enough out to have a base, one couldn’t be too careful with sharks prowling. Luckily, he’d scouted out the perfect location in advance. The soft brush of the ocean lapped up against his toes, around his ankles, and he felt more at peace and sure about what was to take place. For a moment, he allowed his eyes to close and breathe in her scent, letting her fill all the way to the edges of his lungs until she was confused with fire. Enough of that. His eyes opened, focusing on the rock he’d need to make it to, but his lips parted. Something was there. No, someone was there. His jaw instantly locked. That was his rock for the night.
Frustration began to rise up the back of his neck and likewise the marks pulsed brighter as he moved with strong strides into the water. His lips moved silently, granting him temporary power enough to breathe under water and he dove in. Sand and salt moved against his eyes, but they’d grown so used to it that he could see just as well as if he were on land…the bond aided with that as well. Why this rock, this night, of all nights?!
Once he was upon it, his fingers gripped at the slick edge and he pulled up just enough to stare in annoyance on this trespasser, “What are you doing on my rock?” He was ready to pull his blade to make persuasion easier when he saw his hips. For once he was taken aback and blinked quickly at realization of what he was.