[ AW ] PROPAGANDA

How had she managed to find this beach? She should've listened when the stranger told her to turn left, to head inland - instead she'd doggedly done the exact opposite, expecting that he'd been lying. She always expects that they lie, especially to a foreigner; it's funny, to them. She's been the butt of the joke enough times since departing from home that any interest in actually listening to what the locals say is long gone.

Turns out this time, he'd been right. Weaver's face sours as the sea angrily churns at her side, kicking up salty spray that wets her long fur. She jerks away as if she's been burned by it, a paw lifting to curl into her chest. A desperate sort of resignation plays across her face and she exhales slow, eyes shutting. Gods, it was just water, it is fine. Or, so she's telling herself. Repeatedly. A tremor travels through her limb and she slams it back to the earth, brows tightening. She would be just fine as long as she didn't go in the water. Right?

....Right?

She gives the sea a cautious, mistrustful look, head canting slightly to one side, before lurching away from the creeping surf. It pushes her up against the cliffside and she makes a soft, wounded sound; going in the damn mountain wasn't any better. What a horrid place - she can only hope the rest of the countryside isn't made up of things she only hates. A paw brushes across her face and she pins her tall ears back as a frustrated sigh crawls from her throat once more.

{Alright, Weaver, get your shit together and let's go.} She mutters, slapping the paw against her cheek in some vague attempt to boost her confidence.

The sea breeze was always refreshing. It was especially welcome after a long shift of work the night prior, exhaustion still clinging to her as the new day wore on. She delicately pressed the paw pads beneath her eyes, fretting that there were remnants of a lack of decent sleep surrounding them. To anyone else, she'd appear as radiant as the first light of morning. The winds buffeted her fur, slipping through long tresses of her dark sable hair and she leaned into it from the ocean overlook she was perched on.

Letting a soothing gust pass by, she breathed in that air thick with sea salt and let her gaze wander downward to the beach and it's mesmerizing waves. As opalescent orbs raked across the sands, she instantly caught sight of a figure clad in white tiptoeing their way across the shore. Seraphina might have simply passed them by hand it not been for their gate and the way they seemed to try to escape the kiss of ocean waves with such desperation that it flattened them into the cliff side.

She continued to observe with amusement for a moment until they drew closer, where they would pass beneath the overlook and she could make out an expression of mild distress. It was understandable, given that the area they were traversing wasn't typically kind to pedestrians. Eventually the stranger would run out of sand and forced to clamber over jagged protrusions of rock that had been sharpened by the ocean waves.

“Hello down there! Yoohoo! Ahoy!" Deciding it might be best to intervene, Seraphina positioned herself upon the overlook to try to catch the eye of the other, languidly waving a paw. “Are you alright, love?"

@Weaver

The rocks reach out as she lurches onto them, trying to pitch her back into the sea's embrace and Weaver curses colorfully. Loudly. She hadn't expected to have company and it never occurred to the newcomer to look up. So when @Seraphina waves a paw in front of her, the girl jerks to a halt. Her ears flatten and she offers a quick barring of her fangs - until the other's voice rings in the air.

Oops. She was being friendly.

The girl clears her throat and leans back, perched on an uncomfortable outcropping of stone. Her eyes tighten at the edges as the sea reaches greedy hands her way and Weaver spares the surf a wounded glance. Ugh, company was not what she needed right now. It occurs to her a moment later that Seraphina has been talking and she blinks rapidly, curving her head up to peer at the ember woman. For a moment she's silent, staring, until her brain catches up.

Her voice was honey smooth, though carrying an accent she couldn't place. The pet name that slides from her tongue without a second thought coaxes a little grimace to her lips but she says naught for a moment, simply shifting so that she can more comfortably look up. If it was possible to be comfortable in her current position, of course.

Well, I- The sea growls behind her, splashing its wave upon her back and she jerks again. Yeah, sure. She snarls, suddenly irate. I'm peachy keen. I do this for fun, not like I'm trying to find my way into this gods-forsaken country or anything and ended up here by mistake. The end trails off into mostly complaining to herself; it's not this woman's fault, really - she's just asking the question that set her off.

Before she'd even opened to say something aside from cursing to the high heavens, Seraphina knew she was in a tight mood. Anyone would be if they were in her position, the red-haired woman concluded. The grimace didn't offend her, not in the slightest. Bending to the social whims of others was her literal job, after all! And what would be the fun in having someone respond as one might expect. The girl was feisty, sarcastic, the perfect match for a woman who quite enjoyed back and forth banter.

She lowered herself to a lounging position as she looked over the ledge at the ivory femme who was likely to be soaked to the bone by the tide by the end of this interaction. “Ah, I see...then ‘Ole Murray must've abandoned his post at the pier. Seems unusual...old buggar loves warning folk about goin' down the way ya just came from like it's his life's mission, poor bastard..." She ruminated on the salty sea dog for a moment, creating idle conversation for her own entertainment mostly before continuing. “Anyway...I digress! When youre done with your fun and games, there is a way up here cliffs just down the way, you're almost there. I can show ya, not sure how visible it is from your unfortunate vantage point!"

Seraphina hopped up and started to skirt the cliff side of the overlook, peeking over every now and then to ensure she kept the alabaster female in her sights. She tried to stay close to the ledge so that the stranger could still see her, but not so close that she might take an awful tumble. Her tail was kept flagging up high like a beacon while trotting her way towards the rift in the jagged stone that served as an upward staircase from down by the surf. She peeked over once again to wave a paw and call to the stranger. “Almost there, now! There ya go! You've got it!"

@Weaver

Weaver is ready to continue sulking and complaining when @Seraphina mentions Murray. Her expression goes blank and her ears tip back. Oh, ah.... She mutters, eyes slipping closed as she gropes for an explanation. How, exactly, should she tell this woman that Murray had been there and had warned her exactly where not to go, but that she did it anyway? He must've been in the bathroom, Weaver mumbles to herself, face hot as she glances away. What a damned entrance she's making. Her brother would laugh his fur off to see her now, after such an exit from home. 'Guess next time I need to listen when they say something.' But she knows she won't. This is a fluke, she'll see; everyone lies more than they tell the truth.

The ginger promises a way up and hope flares in her chest. She exhales sharply and tips her face up, eyes pinning on the woman as she finds her feet. I'm quite done with my... games. She promises through gritted teeth, stamping down her anger and not allowing it to get the best of her ( again ). Eagerly, though awkwardly, she clambers across the stones, swallowing every curse that flies to her lip with every uncomfortable moment.

By the time they reach the natural staircase, Weaver is breathing slowly and deeply through an open mouth, determined not to be gasping for breath when she joins Seraphina on her upper ledge. It's only partially working, despite her best efforts, as she lurches up the staircase and thrusts herself onto the plateau with a dramatic sigh. She flips onto her back, paws to her chest, and closes her eyes as she gives in and pants. You know, she wheezes. A sign would be so helpful.

As if she would've listened to that, either.

She awaited the new arrival at the top of the stairs, giving her plenty of space to catch her breath or what have you. The stranger was clearly exhausted from the difficult terrain of her trek, lowering herself with a sigh before flipping over to continue panting with a wheeze. Seraphina took a few lackadaisical steps closer to peer down at the courageous young woman with a smile. “Oh, why, darling, there is a sign, Murray is such a pest that removes it and takes its place when he's there. The old coot cannot stand being irrelevant in his old age..." She seated herself back onto her haunches and tapped her chin in thought. “I never know whether to applaud him for his efforts or judge him for his uncouth sense of self-importance..."

Her attention was back upon her new acquaintance in no time and flashed a toothy grin that brightened her features. “Did I hear that you're a newcomer? Well, of course you are...I've never seen anyone take a gamble down there like you have, you deserve a medal!" She smirked, trying to be as good-humored about the washed-up wolf's grand entrance as she could. “I do not have one today, unfortunately for yourself, however I do offer you the Warmest of Welcomes to Sussex! Home of drunkards, fishmongers, mercenaries, and cutthroats alike! As well as the most magnificent women you will ever feast your eyes upon, of course!"

She chuckled melodically with a paw settled at her breast as she was clearly talking herself up a bit. When she returned her gaze to the pile of sopping wet fur at her feet, she blinked, “Do ya need a spot to dry off? I can hook ya up with a good meal too while you get your bearings on those sea legs." Seraphina winked playfully as she rose to stand. “If it suits ya." She added with a genuine smile settling on her maw.

@Weaver