The wind lapped at her silken shawl as she stood on the edge of the water. The foaming waves missed her pale toes by scant inches. Her bi-colored eyes gazed solemnly at the ocean, the greyness of the day made it so difficult to concentrate in her brightly colored home. It was beautiful on a day like this but it was hard to focus, so hard. The sky above was grey with dark clouds. Snow was on the wind and the woman could feel a growl rising in her throat. There had been days when the sun was shining so brightly that she could hardly believe it was still the edge of winter.

Her fingers touched the necklace at her collarbone. It sat cold and heavy over her heart. Sirius. The King whose name Tlantli warned her not to utter carelessly. Her fear of him sat well in her chest, but it was also mixed with the proud feelings of her own abilities to keep herself safe in his presence. She could slip slightly in his presence and she would be safe because of her skills. A light smug smile crossed her lips as she shifted her arms around her scarf.

She cried out as she felt the fabric shift around her neck and slip away. The strong sea wind pulled it out of her grasp. Her white fingers lunged at it but it twisted to the side and she stumbled. Feet sank into the wet sand where the tide came in and the silk scarf hit the water. Isabella shucked her heavy skirt, tossing it away from the reach of the waves. "Oh, mon dieu pas!"

She had not heard the noise of the horse, nor did she smell the creature and its rider. Isabella waded out into the water, ignoring the sensation of sand and rock beneath her feet. She lunged out and grabbed the scarf, pulling it close to her chest. It was dripping wet and water ran in rivulets down her body. Thickly, she waded back out, grumbling in french a slew of profanities. Suddenly she stopped, seeing the woman with the horse. She was a dark creature, though a dark creature different from her own darkness. She gazed at the other woman, remembering her from Last Suppers, seeing her sitting near her. So they were similarly ranked.

"Yes, I am alright," she said with her slightly accented lilt. Isabella raised up the scarf lightly, the wave picking at it lightly. "Nothing lost just yet," she added, giving a generic smile to the woman. She still sat atop her horse, and Isabella felt significantly smaller in comparison. Her body itched and the water was doing little to alleviate her skin's demand for scratching. Obviously she kept herself well in check even though her flesh was eager to shed. Her combs were back in her home, and she had not thought to clean herself that morning. "How are you today, madam?"