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ManiacInsomniac

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Laila sits on the course sand, her legs tucked against her body. She hugs herself and rests her chin on her knees. Her shoes are discarded on the ground behind her. The waves soak her feet, black leggings, and green-white polka dotted skirt. A bright smile lights up her face as she watches at the crashing waves, the sea breeze ruffling her hair. The water freezes and numbs her limbs, but Laila does not seem to care.

Her chipper voice rings out across the waves. "Mhm. The Columbia River is well. They are worried about pollution, but everyone is nowadays. They said... um... Thank you for the greeting. The fish are thriving and the rainfall is plentiful."

"I see," crashes the Pacific Ocean. "Thank you for conveying this message. Their water flows into mine, but it takes me longer to send a message to them." The ocean's voice is deep, patient, and ancient.

Laila flushes at the praise. "No problem!"

Laila falls silent and stares out at the horizon. She clutches her legs tighter and shivers, as the maritime chill finally reaches her bones. "...Life in this new place is difficult. Your familiar voice makes it more bearable."
 
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This is not what a beach is supposed to be, Cyrus thought distantly as he trotted down the path towards what he'd been told was an abandoned beach with an ocean view.

The air was too chilly, feeling more like a winter breeze than the warm air of a Great Lakes summer. It felt like all the moisture in the atmosphere stuck to his skin and his clothes and froze in sharp little particles. He wasn't particularly impressed, if he was being honest, but he was still willing to give it a chance. The rocky coast line was beautiful, after all, and he was looking forward to making some quick charcoal drawing in his travel sketchbook.

Ahead of him walked Viktor, who he'd only met perhaps ten minutes before on the road leading to the supposedly empty beach. The dark-haired boy seemed delighted by the weather, twirling around in between his bouncing steps, unprompted laughter occasionally bubbling out of him.

His sweater matches the view, Cyrus then thought, his eyes tracing snowflake patterns across the dark blue cable-knit top. He probably loves the cold.

Cyrus' eyes turned down to his sketchbook, and as he was wondering if he should ask to draw Viktor as well, he bumped directly into the other boy's back.

"Viktor?" he questioned, then followed the boy's pointing finger.

Another kid sat on the beach ahead of them, close enough to the water that the tides would rush over her bare feet. She wasn't the only one, either. Coming from another path just down the way was a girl with loose brown curls, whose curious eyes lit up when she saw the girl in the water.

"Oh! Hello!" Cyrus heard her call, and watched as she trotted with bouncy steps straight up to the stranger. "I haven't seen you around before! What are you doing in the water?"

Both Viktor and Cyrus crept closer, walking nearly in unison despite not knowing each other very well. Neither was sure if they should interrupt, but it seemed weirder, at least to Viktor, to just stand around watching.

"Hello to both of you!" The dark-haired boy said, before their water-faring companion could reply, waving one pale hand. "I wasn't expecting to so many people to be at the beach this morning!" He continued to smile brightly as he, too, wandered partially into the gently flowing shallows, soaking his shoes and the ends of his dark slacks. "Such a lovely day out though, I shouldn't be surprised!"

Cyrus remained where he was, a few feet away in the off-white sand. He wasn't sure where to begin with this group...the two newcomers seemed much more friendly than he knew how to handle. Thankfully, Viktor picked up the slack for both of them.

"I'm Viktor, but you can call me Vik! That's Cy over there-- sorry, Cyrus, I mean!" He laughed then, his voice warm despite the surrounding cold. "And who are you lovely people?"
 
Laila peeks at the people trudging down the beach. She tenses for a moment, thinking the noise might be a park ranger or Aunt Dahlia, coming to yell at her for swimming in the ocean. "Oh um..." Laila glances back at the saltwater waves.

"Go on, make friends," the Pacific laughs. Their booming voice fills her mind, a large wave suddenly crashing onto shore and soaking her knees.

Laila stifles a giggle at the playful gesture. Her hands drop and her palms sink into the wet sand as she pushes off the ground. She stands and steels herself, a bashful smile curling her lips upwards. She clutches onto her forearm nervously, crossing her body and drawing into herself. Her posture is diminutive, a far cry from her open and bright body language moments before. It can't be that hard to make friends, she thinks as her stomach flutters with butterflies. Just... treat them as puddles.

"I- I was talking to the Pacific," she answers the brunette girl. Her attention flits to the cheerful, warm boy wearing a thick sweater and standing in the water. "Hello Vik... and Cyrus... It is nice to meet you. My name is Laila."

Popping up on the rocky ridge, a tall and gangly girl peers down at the group. A violin case hangs on her back. "Mm I thought I heard voices..." She sighs, tucking her copper hair behind an ear and out of her eyes. "Sorry to disturb y'all!" she chirps. "I can find somewhere else to practice."

"No it's fine," Laila flusteredly replies.

The gangly girl peers down at the gathered children and frowns. "Hey! You're soaking wet!" She pulls the instrument case straps tight and clambers down the hillside. She stops near the water's edge, hovering next to Cyrus. "You could catch a cold like that!" she scolds.

Laila squeaks and steps out of the water. "S-sorry..." she mumbles. She brushes the sand off her clothes ineffectually. "I come here a lot. It is beautiful today. But usually I don't bump into this many people."

"Aw, sorry, it's habit. I didn't mean to scare you." Ria blinks and softens her tone at Laila's started reaction. "I came to offer my dry, warm cardigan if y'all need it. That's all." The red-head smiles softly. "My name is Ria by the way."
 

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