Dakota walked along the street bordering the docks carefully, her white cloak flapping in the breeze. Today was a cold day on the ocean, gray clouds marking a storm rolling in on the horizon, a chill wind making the waves short and choppy, in turn causing the boats to bounce on the water and those unaccustomed to being on the sea in such a vessel to fall rather ungracefully.

...And with each passing hour, I feel the same way about my life. Each passing day, becomes harder and harder to face. I don't know why, but it's become too hard to praise every day when I wake up. Too hard to say good day when a stranger passes by and smiles at me. I have no desire even to do anything at all. Each day becomes more and more of a struggle. And I'm just getting worn at the seams with this. 'Nothing is new under the sun.'

And almost completely in tune with her thoughts, it began to rain only as it rains on the coast--in perfect, penetrating sheets of ice-cold water mingled with salt from the ocean. Dakota sighed and shivered, getting completely soaked within seconds and wishing herself in the desert, or even in the hellish dimension she'd spent two years in. Oh, and hell it truly had been, to her. Away from Mazzer, away from civilization--learning how to completely rely on faith and not her own strength..

Though most people learn that by less harsh means. Like, by learning about their faith through trials that AREN'T physical. I'm still trying to figure out why I was chosen to be sent to such a hell. Why ME of all people to choose? I didn't honestly deserve that, since I've no real family and nothing else to hold me here. Eh,, but no one ever said that being chosen for things like that had to make sense. It's not like an application system. You're just chosen and off you go.

She turned toward the now-rocking ocean and smiled grimly through the tears she'd begun crying--cold tears that coursed down her face just like the rain that plagued her here. She could hardly hear even the harsh crashing of the waves on the stout docks, the wind howled so loudly. her hood blew off, revealing her bright white hair, now wet and whipping her face as it blew in the sharp winds.

...Send me someone to listen to what I have to say...Send me someoen to listen to what I'm NOT saying...Send me a companion, a friend, a second soul. Send me...Anyone.

<Mind if I jump in?>

Looking all around her the streets of Lómëdor, she only now realized how much different they were to the Temple of Life in which she had left not too long ago. Not having left the area around the temple for over about twelve years she had never expected so many people to pack the streets. There seemed to be too many people for the city to hold. Upon arriving the first place she had wanted to look at was the docks. Though to most there would not be much to look at but to someone who had never been in any city everything would be new to her. She had often read about the ocean but she had yet to see it with her one eyes, which was just another reason she wished to see the docks.

It was just her luck however that the day that she had finally arrived it would be as cold as she could ever remember. The wind was blowing pretty bad as well and her long blonde hair went along with it. She should have brought some kind of cloak but at the moment she had none. Soon after that it began to rain as well and with the wind it blew that rain right into her face. But even through all this she still continued through. As she got closer to the docks there seemed to be less people around on the streets. Most likely because of the storm coming in. She couldn't speak for everyone else but she liked the storms. It always reminded her of her childhood. It was one of the only things that she could remember before going to the temple of life. At that time she had been with her mother so anything that reminded her of that she liked alot. Where ever she had lived before the temple must have had many storms.

Finally at the docks she stood in aww at the ocean in front of her. She had ever thought it would have been so large! The wind caused the waves to crash up against the docks and come slightly over onto the dock itself. The boats rocked up and down as the waves hit them as well. With the smaller boats the waves washed over the decks. Glancing around she noticed a lone figure looking out toward the ocean as well. As she neared the person she could tell it was a girl and she seemed rather small. Slowly walking up to her she spoke. Before she did though she noticed that she seemed to be crying, but then perhaps it was just the rain. "Hi, my names Olivia, are you all right?" she asked.

It was a small dinghy, old and creaking and too worn out for any sensible being to stay in.

It was a harsh sea, spraying and spitting waves to the darkened skies above. Torrents of rain fell like thick sheets of wool and cotton. What small creatures dwelled beneath the raging waves hid into whatever shelter they could for it was at nights like these that the creatures of the deep surfaced to feed. M.M.C. figured that this was unlikely, for this was Port Adune, and the other fierce water creatures should be coming from somewhere around Bar-nu-Nen or the Palanen Ocean. That was quite a distance and quite too far from Port Adune.

The dinghy squealed threateningly as a wave slammed against it. Raindrops pooled in but were swiftly absorbed by the rotting wood.

M.M.C. reasoned that she should be lucky that the old boat was tied up with ancient-looking rope. At these conditions, it was likely that she would easily be towed away to the seas in a game of tug of war between wave and sea.

The rain was refreshing too – M.M.C. distantly remembered nights of storms where mother prevented her boys from leaving town, or house, for that matter. Even in slight slates of rain she would not let them leave without a carriage to ride in. Her protectiveness just increased the children’s curiosity about the rain, and so they took it upon themselves to jump in the heavenly dew every time their mother, or their father, was not around.

Times have changed, though, and men were no longer children. Being a shape shifter, M.M.C. smoothly proved that phrase wrong. She clung to childhood like a mother to her son and would not let it go. Besides, what jobs craved for were minds and not bodies.

The rotting wood was slightly soft under her head, the rain giving an unsteady soothing beat as it fell from the heavens. Yawning and stretching, she sat up and looked over the side of the boat – ah, that girl’s still there. How long has it been since I fell asleep? M.M.C. mused. After a few minutes of groggy pondering, Alpha Rho shrugged. Anyway, that girl had better move – she might catch a cold.

M.M.C. dismissed a slight twinge of inner hypocrisy. What was she to say to herself then? She’d been staying under the rain, in a dangerous dinghy in the middle of a storm. M.M.C. laughed quietly at the sheer irony of it and was about to give the white-haired girl a warning about catching colds but immediately flopped back on the boat when another girl approached. The two seemed to be having a conversation, then.

M.M.C. shrugged and crawled out of the boat just as a small hole made itself known on the dinghy’s floor. Alpha Rho was soaked through and through, but paid little attention and searched for another dinghy to lie down in. Sadly, the only other near one was near the conversing pair.

Alpha Rho sighed. Well, falling into conversation was inevitable if she wanted a dinghy.

And so, she walked towards the two and towards her dinghy.