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[color=00BFFF]【Ｔｉｍｅ】[/color] Morning
[color=00BFFF]【Ｌｏｃａｔｉｏｎ】[/color] North Pass
[color=00BFFF]【Ｉｎｔｅｒａｃｔｉｏｎｓ】[/color] None
[color=00BFFF]【Ｅｑｕｉｐｍｅｎｔ】[/color] Magic infused collar | Simple bow | Coin pouch | Various herbal satchels | Simple bone dagger
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A relentless snowstorm howled through the towering pine trees of the North Pass, creating a mesmerizing dance of swirling flakes in the frigid air. Nestled within the protective embrace of the dense tree line stood a quaint cabin, a rustic creation crafted from aged logs meticulously stacked to form a humble, yet inviting rectangular-shaped home. Gracefully adorning its front, a simple porch offered shelter from the relentless storm, where a handcrafted rocking chair swayed gently to and fro in defiance of the fierce, snowy winds. From the cabin's stout chimney, a plume of smoke rose into the snowstorm, the streams of smoke twisting and disappearing into the white abyss.

As the fire crackled merrily in the heart of Cyrene's Home, its warm, comforting sounds reverberated through the cozy interior, casting a welcoming aura that beckoned travelers to seek refuge within its walls. However, this home was so far in the wilderness very few ventured into its domain. 

Inside her simple home, built by her very own hands, Cyrene rushed around finishing the remaining of her affairs. Having spent the early morning delivering the pelts, meats, and various items she had crafted to the locals in town it was finally time to get ready for her latest adventure. 

For the last 10 years Cyrene had been living, but more so, hiding in the woods of the North Pass. Every few weeks Cyrene would venture into town with various goods that she had acquired. This week was particularly a hearty bounty which was welcomed as Cyrene had a long travel ahead of her. Cyrene had ridden a carriage into town towards the main market area, her wagon filled to the brim with dried and skinned pelts, tools, and sometimes furniture that she made. The harsh storm that had hit the North pass for about a week now caused the visibility to be terrible. However, Cyrene's eyes were sharper than most and thankfully didn’t cause any problems for her but the townspeople found themselves struggling for their basic needs. They were so grateful to receive her wagon of supplies that it was gone in nearly minutes barely having a chance to look back to see what was left. 

She never asked for payment,much of the things she made or caught would go to waste or simply allowed her something to pass the time. Cyrene already felt indebted to the North Pass people for their hospitality in keeping her sheltered in their woods. Allowing her to keep in hiding away from…[i]Him.[/i] 

As the morning sun broke the horizon Cyrene knew it was time to go. She would only have so much new daylight to make it to the cliff edge near her home. She’d need to get there without anyone noticing. Thankfully with the storm, her location and the time of day it was unlikely anyone would notice. She knew that there were rumors circling about what Cyrene truly was, if anyone were to find out she would be in danger and the piece of jewelry around her neck would be the least of her concerns.

Cyrene grabbed her belongings and started to trek off towards the cliff edge. She had purposely built on the location due to the ease of location for her. The large cliff edge hung over the sea allowing an easy drop into the frigid cold waters. As Cyrene approached, she began stripping off one layer of her clothing after the other. The cold air stung her skin as she powered through the pain. Each article of clothing was carefully tossed in a small hutch she had built. It had a matching set on the other side of the island for when she would return. 

Reaching the edge of the cliff, completely naked in the middle of a snow storm and without hesitation, she jumped off the edge. Her body curving down as her arms stretched out to the side moving to the front of her head for the perfect diving form. As the water swallowed her it caused her true form to be unveiled. As each part of her body hit the water, dark navy blue scales appeared. First, small groups of scales clustered over her arms then as her shoulders dipped in, scales appeared like pauldrens over her shoulders. As her torso hit the water, the scales appeared over her breasts trickling down her belly in a thin cluster until they branched out creating a large tail that continued to grow as her legs finally cleared the surface. Her tail was made of the same dark blue scales with large fins that broke off into thin deep purple pieces. They looked like thin pieces of fabric floating with ease in water. A large fin also ran down her butt towards where her thighs would be, matching the beauty of her tail. 

Cyrene was a siren. Every so often she had to return to the water after being on the mainland for so long, if she failed to do so it could cause serious illness and soon death. Normally Cyrene would swim around the North Pass, cleaning up various things that fell in the ocean while enjoying her time, however, this time was slightly different. Cyrene planned on setting off towards Roshmi City. She enjoyed watching the boats coming in and out of the harbor, the sound of the bustling city, and the warm waters. The journey would be long and Cyrene would not arrive until sometime in the evening, just in time to catch the morning deliveries. Once night hit, the sign of the siren from her people would appear. Her tail would light up with shimmering scales luminescent in the dark waters. The runes along her tail were ancient symbols telling the story in a beautiful artistic design. Sadly, it was well-known sirens from different families held their siren mark in various fashions, and for Cyrene, it was all too visible at night. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was how her mother was found. She was too young to remember. 

Slipping the thoughts from her mind, Cyrene swam through the cold and dark waters. Hours had gone by but it felt like minutes. She felt at peace in the water, it was like a recharge to her soul swimming through the depths. However, it brought back memories…bad ones. The collar around her neck floated around, crashing into her skin every so often with each move. It was a constant reminder of the castration of her voice. She missed singing. It was a release for her, an escape that she could never explain. Like breathing air, it was just a part of who she was. Then someone took it from her. Ripping away parts of her identity to claim for his own as if her body were a trophy. The thought angered her. She would never again be someone's property. 

As her mind twisted with thoughts, she wasn’t paying attention. Suddenly she found herself entangled in strings of cotton as her tail whipped around her body reacted causing her to get even more twisted and tangled. It took her only a moment to realize, she was stuck in a fishing net….. [/color]