Thalassa

Mate: Amaranta

The waters are restless, shifting expanses of grey and blue that roll upwards against the bordering lands of the Sea of Thousand Currents. Imbued with the Tidelord's magic, it felt right to retreat to the call of the ocean; the sound a dull crash of waves at the back of the Banescales mind.

Striped hues of deeper grey coiled within the thrashing waves, the deep set purple off a crested fin breaking the water in a ridged line that curls up then vanishing below--

This new world is suffocating for her and as ever new and changing as the tides that she had claimed as refuge in. From the small hatchling, vulnerable and afraid in lost shallows, to the leviathan serpent that shifted and snaked the seas.

With no name and no clan, it was not easy.
The abyss was not kind to strangers and the currents were not merciful to those lost among the waves.

There was mercy, though.
Outstretched offers of aid and kinship found in a soft, earthen gaze and the loyalty of Arcane; a promise of home.

And home was slow to find.
The days dragged, a name was tentatively given though time granted to seek one of her own fitting if she so sought.

Dragons came and went, she remained with dulled teeth and broken claws. The sea offered no call to claim it's lost child but lost she would not remain.

With a form stained in acidic green and an older Mirror at heel, a Banescale stood with quiet apprehension; a need for kin that have a need for home.

Kratos.
The cracked Mirror of green and red introduces him as to the elder that seeks their home.

And she can only watch as Harsha appraises them.
They are of shadow and earth but claim lands among the plagued lands.

Mutedly, she knows there is no free waters there but the water had forsaken her and this youthful Banescale seems to be trying to assure despite how his... 'mother' broods and grumbles at his side.

He speaks of safety and freedom in their home; assures that they are not alone, that there is all the company she would ever wish and the care that she could ever seek.

He speaks as a brother, seeking a lost sister that the tides claimed.
It is genuine spoken and that is what shifts her mind in this scarred Banescale's favour.

The thick skeletal bones conjoined to his form do little to soften the unspoken promise of a happy future among their kin and... their found-family of Mirrors, gremlins and Skydancers.

It was all found, Kratos explains, and if she wished it then she could be found too.