When she finally scrambled down to the narrow beach, Summer looped the reins of her horse over a convenient pillar which showed signs of being used that way many times before. She barely glanced at Mordred, pacing down to the water’s edge. After a moment staring out over the water, she pulled her shoes off and stepped down into the waves. The wind from the ocean swirled her hair, mostly fallen out of the braid, around her back and shoulders like a bright banner.
There was something easing to her soul about that place, standing between sea and sand, sun and sky. Summer stood there for a long time, face tipped up to the sky, until the last tension eased out of her body.
The knight had only just reached the sands when he noticed she had placed herself in the water, and for awhile he sat, perched atop his horse, watching, waiting. For what, he did not know, but for something. Perhaps maybe, deep down he knew that Morgana may just send her men this far west. Only if she needed or wanted something so desperately.
Eventually, the knight jumps down from his horse, lingering on the beach as he watched her and the surrounding tree line, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“What are you so tense about?” Summer said finally, turning to Mordred. “You aren’t paying any attention to me. There’s no one out here but us.” She put her hand over his on the hilt, then leaned her head on his shoulder.