now comes the tide;

safiri Safiri feels Haki's sluggish feeling, the uneasiness in his gut as something from the Portal stirs him, strips him of something and spits him out. He is pressed against her, stomach irritated and head slow as he rubs his head against her leg. She does not know what's wrong with him, but notices that Kuuma suffers the same fate, meaning that whatever it was it was not just strictly Haki who was being impacted by it. She looks to Zubari, feeling dreadfully helpless. "What's wrong with them? She frets, taking Haki's neck scruff into her mouth and raises him, heaving the pup onto her back so that he can rest. "I can manage, he just... he needs rest. I hope." A thick swallow to accentuate her concern, wary gaze falling to Kuuma and then to Zubari, because Safiri wants to reach out, to comfort the boy, but she is trapped in her own worries and fears. She cannot offer comfort, too afraid that her own family has been swallowed up by Kaos' wrath and she will never see them again. Oh, she wants to say when he explains that he was far closer to his mother than his father, that he was absent. She understands, because as much as she would like to believe that her father was so present, he had the Edge to attend to, and that was far more important than catering to the needs of a child - she didn't mind, because she knew it was his responsibility, but that didn't mean it hurt just a little. She would see him from afar, distant and strong, he stood so proud and strong - Safiri was small, she was weak and petite, her heart was too small and she couldn't believe she was his child at times. "My dad was always busy looking after the Edge. I didn't mind, because it was a responsibility he willingly took on, but it still hurt," she offers him, even if it doesn't mean anything, perhaps he would find comfort in knowing that they're a little more similar, that he isn't so alone facing the world fatherless. It's all that she can do, when they'd just been forcibly pushed out of their home, witnessing the deaths of the brave and defiant, wiped clean by Kaos' hand, effortless and she's still shaking from the sight. A smile spreads across the princess's face as Zubari offered a compliment on her newfound accessories, from the ring in her nose and the gold around her throat to the golden chain adorning her horn, falling over the sides of her face and down the dip of her back, wrapped around the base of her tail. She was ever so grateful to have found it all, feeling her mood lightening by the was she reflected the soft glow of the Rift with her adornments. Safiri offers a gentle huff as a twisted compliment, unable to form the words amidst her surprise over the last of her hooves lifting above the ground - she was equally delighted as she was afraid, and still shaken from witnessing the deaths of so many, of hearing their bodies sizzle and crack beneath Kaos' touch. She is hoping that somehow she will wash her hands of the memories, that she will come to forget the smell of their corpses and their cries, the goodbyes that they left and the holes in hearts that followed. She preoccupied herself with her drifting instead, at how Haki stirred but couldn't even feign surprise with the sickness lingering over him. "Weird," she answers as her stomach twists, caught suspended just as she is, the weight on her sore joints easing as she floats. It feels better like this, a promise of less fatigue, of a less thunderous heart that didn't furiously roar every time she walked too much, that couldn't handle the pressures of keeping her alive amidst panic and running. Their moments alone are fleeting as another spills out from the portal, less graceful and frantic as many before her, more forcibly spit out in a tangle of limbs and confusion as she takes in her surroundings from a different perspective. Safiri watches closely before she glances to Zubari and then back to the disoriented stranger before them. "Um... hello?" She offers, ears sliding back as she listens to the girl whisper a stream of questions, obviously unsure of where she was and why. The lamb looks at her curiously, at her companion who remains a pile on the ground, unable to maneuver herself closer because she doesn't know how. This time, when someone joins them, Safiri recognizes the figure in mourning, the body pressed against the dirt, resting beside another ill companion. She shifts her weight, compels herself to move, because it was Kiada, it was her sister and she was breaking. Safiri could see it in her eyes as she meets them, in the way her cheeks are stained with tears and how she clings to her companion. The child drifts gracelessly towards her older sister, worry knitting her brow as she bends down, attempting to reach Kiada but only able to look down upon her rather than to provide a comforting touch in such a time. "Everything will be okay, everyone will be okay," She murmurs to her sister, offering a shoulder to bear the weight of loss, because Safiri was growing selfless, she was taking action to be supportive among harsh times. She wouldn't express her concerns to Kiada, to tell her she thought that she had abandoned them, that she had only her left in the world. She gave her false promises that it would all be fine, that there was nothing wrong, even as Kiada's body oozed the same teal that had torn Helovia and its residents apart, even as the child's eyes fell upon the dreadful colour and felt herself shudder at the grim reminder. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, almost helplessly as she hovers over Kiada. She wanted to be a comforting presence, to put others at ease, but she was too doubtful herself, too afraid of the new world they'd stumbled into to be so reassuring. And then, Safiri is weeping - she weeps for everything she's lost, for the fact that she can see her mother there before her, whispering thank you's to Zubari and offering her help, giving herself to them so easily, shouldering their problems in ways Safiri wanted to. She offered them help, she offered them services and the child simply drifted helplessly, feeling her mother's kiss pressed against her forehead but needing the affirmation that it was in fact her mother there before her and not a false hope, a distant memory in the form of everything she needed. She pushes herself closer, tries to melt into her mother's embrace for a moment, for just a fleeting second to make sure she was real, that her warmth and her presence were not figments of her imagination, but it was truly her mother. "I thought I left you, I was so scared," she croaks, feeling broken, feeling relieved, but she was still rigid and crumbling. There was still too much missing, too many missing pieces of her family, too much gone from her life, swept away by Kaos. She still had not seen her father, her brothers and sister, they were no longer there and she worried. If there were so many here, where were the rest? Her mother beckons for the rest of her children, for Kianzo, for Mbwana and Vulia - the only response she gets is the deep, childish voice of Mbwana calling back, and another piece falls into place. Safiri still waits at the edge of her seat for the rest of her family to arrive, turning to her mother with worry because, "where is baba? Did he come through?" The fear is dry and bitter at the back of her throat, leaving her to fret for her father's well-being as well as the remainder of her siblings. This much worry had hear heart yearning for rest, begging to be let rest as she yearns to see the rest of her family emerge from the shadows for a bittersweet reunion. a wind in the shadow, a whale song in the deep

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@Zubari