: i should've known the tides were getting higher

we can still survive
& i think we're drowning

The Driftwood King was a father to four babies, and he was overjoyed. Marella was a beautiful wife and Queen, a fantastic mother to their children. He felt nothing could go wrong. But then Enigma fell ill, the tales of the mainlands plague were true, and it had lingered in the island for some time. Enigma had died earlier that morning, just before the plague had lifted. His Beta was now deceased, his right hand man. And he left behind children, relatives to the Ranjord throne through their mother.

He needed to think, and part of him wondered of the new woman. Supposedly she ventured from Amberbjorne, a child of the King there. She was ranked Beta, and soul tied to Pontchartrain, his Delta. He could potentially move them up, and find another to sit at Delta. He needed to speak on all of this, the war that had gone on, the treaty. Everything needed to be addressed, as the island was not connected to everything else - most were not in the loop.

The King paced on his driftwood throne, before an unfamiliar scent wafted into his nares. A male. Aegir lowered his head as he quickly moved on to find the source. As he came to the shores where a washed up male stood, he rose his head. A stoic look on his face before he spoke. "I am Aegir, the Driftwood King of Ranjord." He cocked his head to the side, seeing no sign of Aquatis or Aves. Was he an elemental? He was colored like a coral, something strange to Aegir. He had never seen a wolf so red. "Are you seeking to join Ranjord, or did you need assistance getting to the mainland? I don't see wings or fins, how did you make it out this far?"

Walk, "Talk", Think.

but our heads are still
above the waves

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