Many swords with red feet came to hate toes or sand, or sand and toes. Others marched the wet sand with glee because it feels strangely satisfying to manipulate underfoot. A line of tantou walk in each other's prints with increasingly absurd strides and leaps to catch each other out. When the tide comes in and fills their tracks the rush of waves against their calves causes choruses of laughter and shrieks, and splashing as they run in and out. The bigger swords become lifeguards for the day, fishing out the nervous in water that barely reaches their waists, and running with raised knees to false alarms and tangled fights over who splashed first (it was Mutsu). Some swords sit and watch from under shade, listening to the sea and the life around them and the Tsurumaru with a bucket of tiny crabs and a sore thumb. And at the end of the day, as the sun sets and the embers of a makeshift fire glimmer I wonder what fucking tense I'm writing in, goddamn.>>3221202
I've cleared the whole main search, but I can never be sure if people want things that are easy to find but tedious to rifle through.