10-01-2019, 10:27 PM
Her senses were dulled after awakening, it seemed, her eyes suddenly snapping to a presence that she didn't think was there before. It was huge, whatever it was, much bigger than this body, but it seemed to be... talking to her. She didn't think anything could talk other than sirens. Was this thing a siren? Were there land sirens? She would never get answers to those questions, though, things that she wanted to say, but couldn't. Not unless they said it.
She looked up, craning her neck to gaze at the warm colored Thing before her, which seemed so oddly gentle. It was colored like a reef, like one of those shelled creatures that lurked near the ocean floor, like the wreath of fire from a peak she had been told was deadly to go near. It looked like everything that was rare in the sea, and it startled her, as much as it amazed her.
Red was rarely a color of good signs, after all.
He - she decided that the Thing was a he, since it seemed to be able to talk, like the sirens back home - had said some things, but nothing exceptionally useful to her. She shook her head when he asked if she was alright, a harsh action that took a lot out of her, before listening and waiting intently. There had to be something she could ask, right?
"This is Tanglewood." She said, except the voice that came out of her throat was that of the fire-wreathed thing in front of her, a copy too identical to be attempted. When she said it in the voice that wasn't hers, though, she said it with a quirk of her head, tilted to indicate confusion - hopefully he would understand what was going on, to some degree. At the very least, hopefully he would ask questions, questions she could echo back.
For the sea, in its providence, took everything but the gift of the siren song from her, all those ages ago.
She looked up, craning her neck to gaze at the warm colored Thing before her, which seemed so oddly gentle. It was colored like a reef, like one of those shelled creatures that lurked near the ocean floor, like the wreath of fire from a peak she had been told was deadly to go near. It looked like everything that was rare in the sea, and it startled her, as much as it amazed her.
Red was rarely a color of good signs, after all.
He - she decided that the Thing was a he, since it seemed to be able to talk, like the sirens back home - had said some things, but nothing exceptionally useful to her. She shook her head when he asked if she was alright, a harsh action that took a lot out of her, before listening and waiting intently. There had to be something she could ask, right?
"This is Tanglewood." She said, except the voice that came out of her throat was that of the fire-wreathed thing in front of her, a copy too identical to be attempted. When she said it in the voice that wasn't hers, though, she said it with a quirk of her head, tilted to indicate confusion - hopefully he would understand what was going on, to some degree. At the very least, hopefully he would ask questions, questions she could echo back.
For the sea, in its providence, took everything but the gift of the siren song from her, all those ages ago.
tags - "speech"
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