Entry 1 - A Stranger Calls
Isla
Isla sighed with relief as the ocean kissed her webbed toes. She had no need to enter it for another day or two at least, but still she returned daily to sit with her old friend. Her constant friend. The cool waters soothed her joints. The breathy words made by the waves soothed her mind. In her warm cottage, she was forever alone. Here, she could forget and watch.
She hadn’t always been alone. She was sure at one point that the great castle fortress perching on the cliffs had been full of life. Other penguins, just like herself. Other creatures too. Sea birds? The name seemed to fit. Now it crumbled and decayed just like everything else. The only blue amidst the landscape of greys was the blue of her own back.
A gasping spluttering broke into her conversation. Isla narrowed her eyes and caught sight of a waterlogged red carpet struggling to pull itself from the water’s embrace.
“A gasping spluttering broke into her conversation. Isla narrowed her eyes and caught sight of a waterlogged red carpet struggling to pull itself from the water’s embrace.”
The penguin watched the creature for a few minutes, as still as if she were the fortress itself. A gift from the ocean? Or had she upset her friend somehow and now it sent some foul wretched thing?
“Shoo,” she rasped. She blinked. Had her voice sounded like that the last time she used it?
The creature didn’t shoo.
She crept closer, flippers held in front of her body.
The creature stayed put, half on the sand and half being pestered by the waves. It was all reds and whites and splashes of black. Water and sand and a brown bag clasped tight in paws.
Isla poked it with a webbed foot.
The thing didn’t move.
She kicked it.
A yellow eye crept open and lazily spun in its socket.
Isla hissed a breath. Unnatural.
“You’re not welcome here, beast,” she said. She wondered if she could drag it back into the waves, but the thing was nearly twice her size. Maybe when she was younger. Maybe with more friends. But not now.
The eye closed once more, and the creature let out a gasping sickly cough, spitting water all over her sand. Filthy.
Isla scowled. “Goodbye, good riddance.”
With a nod of her head and a brushing of her flippers, Isla turned on her heels and headed back for the cliff. The sand sucked at her feet, sounding like a creature chewing gristle with each step. How did she know that? She paused for a moment then shook her head and continued. Another memory best left forgotten. Like the thing on the beach.
Isla took a few steps up the worn stairs. Feet slapping against stone. Slap. Slap. Slapping. Stop. She turned. The creature hadn’t moved. The red of its fur stood out like blood against the greys of the sand, ocean, sky. Old memories screamed at her from behind sandstone walls. She had forgotten again, something important. Here and there a voice managed to get past the barriers in her mind. To help. To love. She used to care for creatures like this one lying on the sand, didn’t she?
A flash of lightning over the water not far away shook her thoughts. Rain would follow. She turned and continued up the steps.
Julen
Burning lungs. How much sand had he swallowed? It felt like most of the ocean now sat inside his chest and scraped him empty with each breath. Breathing. At least he was breathing.
The fox curled himself around his satchel. Each muscle. Every fibre of his being. Everything hurt. Rain dribbled down on the parts of him that were threatening to dry out. Can’t have that. He’d roll his eyes if they also didn’t feel full of sand. Another breath brought another round of coughing and wheezing and spluttering. He used the momentum of the last cough to fling himself further up the beach…by a matter of hairs by the feel of the ocean still pulling at him. Greedy thing.
The rain came harder. If he didn’t get himself up and out of the water and the cold, then it wouldn’t matter that he escaped. They still win. The fox let out a snarl — that was not going to happen. At least not today.
Hair by hair, he pulled himself up and out of the wet sand’s grip. He shook as his muscles threatened to send him back down again. Gritted teeth and one paw in front of the other. He dragged himself like this up the sand. The satchel dragged beneath him, its contents clinking every once in a while. He moved on all fours like a mindless beast. By the time he reached the cliff wall, the rain was screaming down at him. With the last flicker of strength, he pulled as much of himself as would fit into a wind-worn hollow. Curled up around the satchel. Shivered. Fell asleep.
