She curls herself upon a rock and watches the young boy wade further into the water, her forelegs tucked beneath her chest, and she doesn’t realize how much she might resemble the mermaids of old tales until the boy speaks again. “I’m not a mermaid, young one, and I am the only one who lives here in the waters.” That might have been the worst thing about her prison, here -- she was achingly lonely, confined as she was, when before she had been oh-so-social and vibrant. “My name is Jaylin,” and she smiles when he offers up a polished pearl, taking it gently from the boy and turning it over and over with her telekinesis, admiring the smooth, shiny surface. She has always had a weakness for shiny objects, a fondness for anything that glitters, and she knows that this small gift will join her hoard. “Thank you. What brings you here to the Oasis?” |
@Pan this is terrible im sorry
