[ Maglor considers and then reaches out to the waves, already so close to him.
Not his world, not his ocean, but he's tied so closely to water.
He calls to the sea, to it's memory of waves. Waves are easy, after all. Croons to it, a voice that is song and not song, that is water itself given voice, raises a wave and holds it, pulls it up and up into a water spout, before letting it go, a shower of rain in his voice that is echoed in the water falling around them.
no subject
Not his world, not his ocean, but he's tied so closely to water.
He calls to the sea, to it's memory of waves. Waves are easy, after all. Croons to it, a voice that is song and not song, that is water itself given voice, raises a wave and holds it, pulls it up and up into a water spout, before letting it go, a shower of rain in his voice that is echoed in the water falling around them.
After, he pants, exhausted ]