Sure enough, there it is, a beacon in the stormy dark: the shoreline. As Perrin hits the sand, Shoka unwinds her tendrils from his arm and rushes to get off him. It's less that she's in any hurry to get herself to safety and more that it just feels weird to keep sitting on the poor guy (even if she hardly weighs anything at all like this). Moving too quickly in her new, unfamiliar and weather-beaten body, she very nearly faceplants in the sand when she hops down—but, for as strange as her form is, it's also resilient. It spills onto the ground almost like a liquid, spreading out under her in reaching, crawling shapes that automatically keep her mostly upright.
She scuttles (and oh, she is not loving that she has to scuttle) her way around Perrin to find the sighted side of his face. Again, she's taken aback by just how huge he is, and by the further confirmation she finds that he totally is a dragon (she can see his wings now, and his tufted antennae)—but any comment on that is withheld for now. Dragon or not, what he just pulled off must have taken a lot out of him.
"Hey—! You... You good?"
At least he manages a sigh to confirm he's still breathing. Hated that. Shoka gives a short, breathless laugh of relief.
"Yeah... Same." Whenever Perrin is able to open his eye, he'll find her looking back with the drawn-on, cutely smiling face of the rag he found first. She's much easier to look at like this, her true form hidden beneath it... but she's still soaking wet, and whatever ink was used to paint that face has started to run down the rag in unsightly, dark streaks. Nevertheless, the gratitude is audible in her voice. "But—you actually did it! We're on shore! So—you can rest now..."
He can rest, and she'll... do something. Find shelter for him, or at least start figuring out what the hell is even going on. Something. She swivels, throwing a glance around what she can see of the shoreline. It's teeming with movement and voices—but not people. More creatures—monsters?—like them. She tenses, as if poised to defend Perrin against them—but hey, if he's friendly, maybe the others are, too? None of them are approaching yet, apparently too busy with their own business.
"Thanks," she says suddenly. "For..."
Her voice wavers as she trails off. For some reason, she can't seem to find the right words.
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She scuttles (and oh, she is not loving that she has to scuttle) her way around Perrin to find the sighted side of his face. Again, she's taken aback by just how huge he is, and by the further confirmation she finds that he totally is a dragon (she can see his wings now, and his tufted antennae)—but any comment on that is withheld for now. Dragon or not, what he just pulled off must have taken a lot out of him.
"Hey—! You... You good?"
At least he manages a sigh to confirm he's still breathing. Hated that. Shoka gives a short, breathless laugh of relief.
"Yeah... Same." Whenever Perrin is able to open his eye, he'll find her looking back with the drawn-on, cutely smiling face of the rag he found first. She's much easier to look at like this, her true form hidden beneath it... but she's still soaking wet, and whatever ink was used to paint that face has started to run down the rag in unsightly, dark streaks. Nevertheless, the gratitude is audible in her voice. "But—you actually did it! We're on shore! So—you can rest now..."
He can rest, and she'll... do something. Find shelter for him, or at least start figuring out what the hell is even going on. Something. She swivels, throwing a glance around what she can see of the shoreline. It's teeming with movement and voices—but not people. More creatures—monsters?—like them. She tenses, as if poised to defend Perrin against them—but hey, if he's friendly, maybe the others are, too? None of them are approaching yet, apparently too busy with their own business.
"Thanks," she says suddenly. "For..."
Her voice wavers as she trails off. For some reason, she can't seem to find the right words.