Stir the coals

She concentrated on his voice, how it wove through the sounds and guided her to each noise. She focused on what she could hear. She could almost see it all with her mind's eye. Her claws dug into the and as she strained to hear every sound. After a moment she found the pattern of the waves, how they always came in and crashed and rumbled, then whispered. Crash rumble whisper...
It was never in any other pattern. There was a drip here or there as the water lapped and splashed against the rocks. But the rhythm of the waves was what she found solace in. Her claws slowly relaxed, and her face released its knitting.
Her breath pulled in as the wave drew near and out as the wave went out.
The bird screeched overhead but she ignored it, the waves, the pattern. It was reliable, it was steady, and it never changed.
The strain of doing it right went away as she focused on the sound.

One paw lifted, mindlessly, and pulled a handful of black sand closer, matching the pull of the waves, then slowly pushed out, following the receding waves. She focused on the sound of the sand and the feel of it in her paw. The sand was cold and different from desert sand. It clung in between her toes, slightly damp, the grain was a touch larger, but most of it was sharper. Sand from the desert was softer, finer, drier, and fell out of your fur more easily.

She sighed. "I'm just thinking about sand now, the differences between this sand and the desert. I did feel the waves though." Her mind just wanted to find the pattern. Her body was a lot more relaxed now.

"Why do you want me to focus? I need a reason. I need a purpose." She asked, opening her eyes to him. She hadn't figured it out yet.


"Ignita"