( There is food. Much food. So much food. Enough, in fact, that the mermaid's head peers, her mouth gapes, and even she seems momentarily stricken, holding a hand out to have her pick of just one of the fish on offer.
Oh, but they look good, so very full and glistened. Their scales haven't so much as tattered. )
Know what? ( This, as she picks the proffered salmon between two claws, daintily, as if she isn't about to devour it with neither courtesy, nor shame. ) I know much. Many things. You have stick 'legs.' You make fire. Goes red. Many things. Many.
( But specificity has ever helped to anchor her whimsy nature. )
no subject
Oh, but they look good, so very full and glistened. Their scales haven't so much as tattered. )
Know what? ( This, as she picks the proffered salmon between two claws, daintily, as if she isn't about to devour it with neither courtesy, nor shame. ) I know much. Many things. You have stick 'legs.' You make fire. Goes red. Many things. Many.
( But specificity has ever helped to anchor her whimsy nature. )