Interlude 8 — Beach Alcove.md

The sun is higher now, properly warm on your back where you've stretched out on the smooth stones of your alcove. This little section of beach - tucked just off the main public area, hidden by rock formations that create natural privacy - is home.

This is where you found it. The ritual components arranged in the sand that night three weeks ago. The materials Kai left for you, knowing you'd find your way here eventually. The beach has always called to you, and that night it called harder than usual - drew you out of bed at midnight with an urgency you couldn't explain.

Now you understand why.

The alcove is perfect. Private enough that humans rarely wander this far. Public beach sounds drift over occasionally - distant laughter, the thrum of music from someone's speaker - but they never come HERE. This is yours and Kai's.

You shift position slightly, letting more of your belly touch sun-warmed stone. The heat soaks into your skin, your cold-blooded metabolism drinking it in like fuel. Energy arriving naturally, no chemical intervention needed. Just sun and time and your body doing exactly what it's designed to do.

Kai is nearby, half in the water, fins drifting lazily. Watching the lake. Content.

There's nowhere you need to be. Nothing demanding your attention. When you're tired you'll nap. When you're hungry you'll hunt. The day stretches out endless and yours.

You could sleep for hours right now if you wanted. Just close your eyes and let the sun work its magic, drifting in and out whenever your body feels like it. No alarm. No schedule. No shift start looming.

Just existence. Simple and correct.