#𝖎𝖓𝖛𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: furina.

[balemouns]

[ goose ]　/　short-bobbed curls bounce as head jolts up behind the kamera. oh! that one that'd flown across the lens just now— that was— "wait!" she calls cheerfully, haplessly, after the broad-winged bird, hurrying to gather one edge of her sun skirt in one hand to break into a run across the uneven sandbar in pursuit.

fortunately, it doesn't go far, and she can see it easily ahead, alighting with grace upon the white-tipped surf not far out to sea. the elegantly spoon-shaped neck, the ivory head and breast blending to shades of gradually darkening blue up to its short tail feathers ; yes! even all the way out here here on these tropical islands, that has to be one of fontaine's very own snow-winged geese!

—oh, and not far from it, also perched on a wavetip. . . its umbral partner, the darkwing goose, with its cloak of vintage, velvet-like maroon. it didn't blend quite as well as the other with the locale's festive atmosphere, but certainly dazzling in its own crepuscular, cryptic way.

and didn't it remind her of something, now that she looked at it more closely?

. . . ah. or, rather. . . someone?

hairs on the back of her neck prickle, and she nearly dreads the slow action of pulling her face from the kamera again to peer to the side. . .

"eep! k-knave! you— when did you—" oh, was she. . . here too. . . "when did you, ah, get here. . . "

now, this she was always fond of: the sound and sight of vast blue swallowing the horizon before her. with the cool breeze along the shore, the soft crash of waves against sand, the occasional sparkle of a sea in motion, maybe it wasn't such a horrible idea after all to take a break here.

in fact, arlecchino had been led to this particular shoreline by the sight of a dark, long-necked bird, a strangely familiar sight that she hadn't expected to see here. where was it going? ( somewhere lovely, undoubtedly. for a moment while she followed, she almost hoped for a cove decorated with cliffs and palms, but... where it had landed was fine, too. vast, open, familiar in its own way. )

as the darkwing goose settled on the waves several yards off the sandbank, seemingly waiting for something, arlecchino decided to wait and see what it was hoping for --- and took a seat herself on the beach, crisp white slacks folded together at knees, arms propped behind with palms flat against the sand, dark eyes marked with red looking out over the rim of glasses intended to protect her vision from the sun.

and so, together, they waited.

and waited.

head turns when the sound of something seems to be fluttering along parallel to the shore catches the darkwing's attention, neck rising and wings flapping where it floats -- she, too, turns to look, seeing a mirrored person following the pale goose along the sand. ( also fluttering, in a sense... wind catches a long dress, barely held up at one side. )

eyes still sitting above the rim of shades try to make out who it might be, but the other quickly covers her face with a kamera pointed at the birds, and a broad sunhat flops over the rest of her in the breeze -- but that pale hair with hints of blue, even the posture the other stands in... recognition comes almost the same moment the girl turns and notices her, and lips that had parted to greet a familiar face close into a tight smile at the girl's sound of surprise.

"... miss furina. lovely to see you too," a single breath almost sounds like a laugh -- as one hand comes up from behind her to push up sunglasses, arlecchino turns back towards the pair of geese, who seem to be greeting one another more closely on the waves. "do you mean on this beach, or in general? ... at least at this spot, I've been here a little while, now. seems both the darkwing and I were waiting to see who else would come along... certainly didn't expect to see fontainan birds like these here. want to watch with me? I'm interested in seeing what the two of them do next."