"Something. It provoked a bit of a different feeling though." She started. "I was probably around ten, maybe twelve. I went on trip with my mother, it was just her and I. She wanted to take a trip down to the ocean. She found some private beach we could visit with it's own beach house. I wanted to go out and play in the sand and water, but a storm had come pretty quickly and it was pretty dangerous. My mother warned me not to go out, but I didn't listen. I went right down to the shore and just stood there, watching as huge waves crashed down. I felt so small and insignificant. Weak, even. The wind really blew me around. It was mesmerizing, just watching giant walls of water crash down. It was horribly dangerous but somehow beautiful and peaceful. I only realized years later that if I had been any closer to the water how easily I could've been swept away and that would've just been the end of me. It didn't take my mother very long to run out and carry me back inside."<br/><br/>She thought about for a moment longer, idly fiddling with Carol's mane. She started to twist some strands together, forming a braid that she'd only brush away once it was finished. "Sometimes I wonder if I should have been washed away."