[b] Imalia and Vol.[/b]

The morning came without mercy and while the little tent gave much protection against a portion of the elements, wind, rain and the like it could not stop a shaft of sunlight cutting through the open door way and slithering across the siren's tired eyes. One would, if they ever observed her, be of note she never truly slept, she rested with eyes lightly shut but she never seemed to enter the sleep state that most beings seemed to not only enjoy but require to physically keep going. For as soon as that heartless beam of light flashed across lids they fluttered open and pupils first dilated and then relaxed to accustom to the bright light of day. For a moment she simply looked at the golden light beam with a rather unreadable expression and then the siren uncoiled from her make shift bed upon the bottom of the tank. First her tail straightened and stretched then each fin spread as wide as they were able, dancing lightly by the stirred currents in the tank and filtering the sunlight so patterns danced about the back walls of her tent in the shapes and hues of her fins. Finally she herself rose with stretching arms and torso, slipping out the kinks garnered fro ma long time in the same position. 

Wrists, which were free of chains for the time being, none bothered her so early, she was not expected to perform in the mornings, normally as the other 'freaks' were still nursing hangovers or were late risers themselves or she assumed such was the case anyway. Which left her plenty of time to ready herself for the day ahead, fishing both comb and the mirror out she swam effortlessly to the surface and placing both items precariously on the edge pulled herself up onto the edge of her tank. It was tricky to comb ones hair when under the effects of water and while the sodden hair fell silken smooth over her bare back and chest it was likely alive with knots and tangles that would need freeing before they drove her mad. Raising her mirror -which according to JaSi was supposed to be for summoning company- as a means to see what she was doing to her hair for the first time in years she bought the comb to her hair, though paused as something caught the corner of her eye. With a sigh she placed both items down by the edge and glanced down where the mirror had caught sight of the intruding item. 

Her husk from the night before had been left out, though almost hidden in the dark stillness of night now that the sun had risen it sparkled like gossamer wings and would be easily spotted if one were to walk in. With an intricate pattern that matched her scales and the broad designs and intricate swirls that made her tail ornate even the slowest of people would begin to grow suspicious. It was as thin as the leaf of a skeleton though and it was just as brittle as she had found out once before, It would have been easy enough to compel someone to smash it for her but then she'd have to explain to those in the carnival about her multi-layered deception. She'd rather keep up the image of a deadly but water bound beast than let them know she could roam -relatively- freely whenever she liked, she just didn't particularly like being on land. 

With a quick glance for any moving shadows and a listen out for voices or sounds nearby the siren hefted her heavy tail from the water, managing first to only get a portion on the side of her tank before lifting her tail tip and fins remotely. There really was no graceful way to 'dismount' the tank but with some effort she managed to lower herself enough before her arms gave out that she wasn't left winded. The warm sun was doing a better job of drying her tail than the cold night had and in half the time it had taken the tail had flaked away leaving another of her gossamer husks behind. Sitting herself up and pulling those awkward, painful legs beneath her she glanced briefly to her 'tank cleaning' sign and awkwardly leaned over to grab it and hang it in it's place on the tank. If nothing else it added a layer of 'protection' should someone suddenly come in and spot her missing, the 'spare' tank was under Eikki's control and that was a good step away from Imalia's tank. 

Glancing to the husks she reached out and gripped the fresher one, it deflated like a soggy paper bag but as it had yet to 'dry' thoroughly it simply pressed itself flatter than the other, with a quite but tuneful sigh the siren slipped her fingers under it and attempted to, at least for now, pull it under the tank between the grass and the tank base. The husk ripped and tore like snake skin and simply moving all the pieces took longer than she liked though was mostly hidden in a matter of minutes, then all that was left was the night before's one. She stretched to reach it initially and as soon as delicate finger touched it a portion crumpled, splintered and shattered before being caught on a gust and fluttering out of the tent or burying itself into the grass. A much more satisfying result but alas she was too far away from it to fully dispose of it and as such she reached out instead for the tank and took a firm hold of the rusted ladder, walking her hands up the rungs until she could feel herself rising and could attempt to get her legs under her. It never got any easier, they refused to obey and sent her slumping back into the grass several times with an agitated huff from the impatient woman's mouth.

~~~

Vol’s morning routine was very strict, at least for him. He tended to feel incomplete without it and this morning was no exception even though the urge to sing was still flowing in his veins. He was in a melancholy mood and filled with dark thoughts. Such moods, when they struck, urged him to entertain through voice. His voice was his most powerful weapon, he did not use it often in song…speech was powerful enough. Today however he sought more, he sought to enrapture through a sense of shared empathy and loss. 

A soul branded this way was no different than the others, but the act stood out among the carnival. Most performances in the carnival drew on excitement, and no few on fear or desire, but what he sought this morn would be different. Singing was such an intimate act for him, the connection that formed between vocalist and listener was so deep that it was the closest Vol ever came to revealing the depth of his true self to another. He preferred to do this with a partner, it helped to defray some of that intimate connection he felt when singing alone. Unfortunately his usual partner, the illusionist Calista who would craft in vision what he crafted in song, had been absent some time. He had spied her at the meeting that was held only yesterday, therefore she was not among the vanished. He wondered why that knowledge made him feel better. 

In the gas lights of his wagon he stared at the image in the mirror before him. His body, lean and muscled, was in top condition and he eyed himself carefully to ensure no marks or blemishes marred his skin. The only one he tolerated was the heart shaped birthmark under his left eye, it was an intriguing mark and one that drew the eye to him in a positive manner. That he allowed. Anything else would simply not be tolerated, he would not allow his perfect body to be marred. Satisfied he swallowed the rest of his brandy, letting the dark amber liquid chase a line of fire down his throat. 

He took his time dressing; he had no choice, he dressed in a very archaic fashion which required much attention to detail. He began with white trousers. He followed this with a crisp white shirt, brown vest, black cravat, and white suit coat trimmed with glossy black feathers. In the height of their fashion all were of the most expensive quality. Vol kept them that way—cleaned, pressed, and tailored to the perfection he demanded of himself. Details. Always details. One could not afford to be slovenly or worse…common. Black boots, black gloves, and a black top hat were the last things he donned before once again examining himself in the mirror. 

Satisfied not a stitch was out of place he tucked his revolver in his belt, gripped his cane, and left his wagon for the day. Despite the care and time he took dressing for the day it was plain the sun was barely up itself. Vol had slept little, but then he rarely did. He had time to leave his wagon and himself immaculately clean and orderly, as he preferred, and still be out and about before most of the folk were even up. 

He wished to sing, that desire had not abated, and he wished for a partner. Knowing that Calista was missing in action, so to speak, he mentally flipped through the other performers. He dismissed out of hand several whose dislike of him would be prohibitive. He also dismissed anyone whose skill was not up to his standards. That left very few. He finally settled on Imalia. He knew her voice was like his, so perfect as to be a dangerous weapon. A duet would achieve all he hoped and undoubtedly bring an entire audience to its knees. That would suit his mood nicely. 

With a debonair air he strolled through the grounds, with a purpose in mind he relaxed and let the personality that was the performer, the siren known as Vol wash over him. He entered, soft footed like the thief he had once been, and thus was able to catch its occupant unaware. An interesting development as it turned out. Vol stopped at the entrance to the tent and watched Imalia struggle to raise herself back to her tank, interested to note how weak she seemed to be on two legs. No wonder she preferred the form of a mermaid. He almost spoke the curious question that currently was forefront in his mind. Etiquette stopped him. Carefully, deliberately, he turned his back on her to give her privacy. He would wait till she settled herself back in her tank; tried to kill him; or addressed him; whichever came first.

~~~

Unaware of the presence of the thief until his shadow fell across her the siren froze, gripping the ladder to keep herself from falling as her legs trembled with the effort -and pain- that went hand in hand with acquiring them. There were luckily few who were so quiet with their approach, even if they were silent themselves others would usually great them and that would have given her ample time to hide or prepare herself for the visitor. As it was she was left off guard, the shadow was too tall and broad for either Ty or the Chinese man that had joined them recently, which left only one truly. skilled enough to be up at such a time and not announce oneself like a quivering whelp at her door. glancing from corner of eyes behind a streak of darkened blonde and delicate reds she spied white fabric and black feathers as they swirled around to produce a back to her. 

A hint of a smile briefly tugged at her lips, such propriety in the circus, with those who turned scarlet to see her body on display day in and out and others, like Vol, whose back simply turned to give her a privacy she never had during her multitude of years here. Her nudity was not a new thing, every day she sat in that tank bare chested and without so much as a screen with which to hide behind and she was alright with that, in the sea it had been the same, with the fisherman it had been no different so here among a carnival of misfits why should things be any different? 

Of course this was different, she felt more undressed now than she ever had in her tank or before, a nudity that surpassed physicality. Vol had seen her with legs and weak as well, she wasn't sure which was worse or which was more humiliating. With a greater effort now she turned back to the iron bars and tested her balance before releasing one hand from the support, she wavered a moment but forced the worst of the pain and discomfort back behind her eyes. This was a dangerous moment, for why Vol was no gossip he would surely see no need to keep secret what he saw here and while many could not fathom why she remained chained and would hide such a fact -which surely would make soul collection far easier- there was a reason for every layer of her deception and if she lost those threads it would be unpleasant to remain here. So she had a need for Vol to one way, or the other, keep her secret. 

With a hesitant step in the soft grass she test her balance before reaching for the tie to the tent's 'door', nearly stumbling over herself she gave it a tug and allowed the fabric to slip like an oceanic wave between Vol and the outside world. The bell tent was plunged then into darkness, a small shaft of light illuminating the tank from the 'sky light' in the tent which in turn cast ghostly ripples of shadow and light across the bare walls of the tent. She had been asked before, by JaSi she assumed, why she did not use the vial given to her by Mr. Seil all those years ago, it sat in a little trunk at the back of her tank with other small articles like gifts from admirers and the original 'costume' she'd been offered and declined. Such a 'plain tent' it was, with it's white walls and grassy floor but it was preferable to seeing what her mind would create with that effortless potion. 

The water moved in subtle, almost serpentine ways and thus the shadows and light rippled in a similar manner, for a moment all was still and quiet accept the quiet sound of the pump that filtered her water. Then the sound of toes against the grass and uncertain steps echoed quietly leaving it hard to pinpoint her exact location but it didn't appear to be moving closer. By her husk Imalia stood, reaching down and wrapping both sets of long digits around the delicate remains, it crunched like a crisp autumn leaf and fell apart in her fingers, parts scattering beneath the tents edges or disappear towards the roof, breaking apart further as it was caught and tugged by the gentle air currents. 

"Good Morning Vol." She finally announced, her voice without the restraint or courtesy that most sirens paid for others, just with Eikki she let it wash with that lazy gentle tone like that of the wind against the sea, echoed a thousand times in ethereal manner against the ears of a listener until it tried to worm its way inside both skull and chest to echo further there. She doubted it would have the full effect it might on a typical mortal, Vol was after all closer to her kin than Eikki after all and the merman had been careful enough a majority of the time. No one that came to her tent was treated any different, save most she did not have a need to speak to with words, Eikki's intrusion on her fun and now Vol's intrusion on such an intimate moment were both reason enough for her to speak up. 

When satisfied the husk was no longer a threat to her secret she slipped with less effort and clumsiness towards the siren. Her slender pale arms, with a chill like that of a person who'd been too long in a storm would drape lightly over his shoulders, her long fingers coming to rest over his chest, close to his heart where sharp nailed fingers rested with no reason yet to act. "What do you want?" There was little malice in her voice but a tone that suggest one of minimal patience despite the whispry echoes that promised desire to be sated.

~~~

His desire was more rampant than most, but he also possessed extreme self-control. He had loved a siren once, and hated every single moment of it. He would not even flirt with such a disaster again…love or sirens…if he could help it. He might dream or fantasize, but nothing further. There were other safeguards as well, guards that protected him now in a way he had not had before. 

Thus when Imalia slid up behind him he felt only a pleasant wisp of arousal, nothing that could catch his senses and unlike the faerie that had visited her the night before, he neither hid his arousal nor was shamed by it. He merely smiled before slipping from the woman’s grasp. He did take the courtesy of being careful not to unsteady her. He had not, however, come to play games. He would play if she wished, naturally, for he enjoyed games. It was not what he had come for however, and he guessed that she did not wish her true nature revealed to the whole carnival. Why…that was his question, but he would not pry. Not right away anyway. He needed a partner for the day. He turned and faced her, leaning easily on his cane in a relaxed pose, smiling sardonically. 

When Vol spoke he allowed his own siren power to twist through his voice. If she would not veil her voice for him he felt no need to veil his own power for her. His voice was a pleasant baritone, smooth and rich. It had been likened in the past to bittersweet chocolate, honey or brandy but those descriptions fell shallow of its true depths. It resonated bone deep in the unprepared listener, twisted around them and ensnared their heart and soul.

“Good morning Lady Imalia” he said easily “are you sure you really wish to know what I want? We would doubtless be standing here quite some time were I to detail all that I desired.” He waved his hand at the tent flap before continuing. “And who knows what fool could wander in. Therefore I do hope you will forgive me if I cut to the heart of the matter. I am in the mood to sing this day. To bring an audience to its knees, filled with tears and melancholy thoughts. I dislike singing alone and thus sought a skilled voice to accompany mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~

With such grace and gentile manners did he slip away from her grasp, forcing her to stand alone with arms out stretched to keep her balance. Her nose wrinkled again in that almost cute expression that mimicked the angels, though with eyes a flame with a burning hatred -directed at no one in particular- it was hard to think of the siren as anything less than fierce. When her balance had recovered enough her eyes turned upon her own kid who spoke to her with the same unrestrained tones she had to him, it was unusual to say the least and for a moment she was threatened by his vocal specialty and yet with a slight tilt of her head she appeared no worse off than before he had started to speak with her. 

Imalia had been caught off guard, the first notes worming through her body like poison oils, coating her with something a kin to a cold that affected the bones, it reached for her heart with grubby desperate fingers and yet it never reached, for by then Imalia's own defenses had been raised and she took apart that dirty taint as a shark rips apart a seal. It's tattered remains inflicted cold and brief, momentary lapses into something akin to despair before all that remained was the memory of the action and a faint, though well hidden, interest. so many of her kind went about their lives restraining themselves, who they were and what they desired and it was a breath of fresh -putrid in her opinion- air to find another who could as happily cast away his shackles to relish what he was. 

To be called a lady caused lips to pull up into an amused smile, though she neither laughed nor commented on such and allowed Vol to speak. "Oh My Lord Vol." She purred in that serpentine way of hers, "I usually have nothing but time but today I agree that we should could the flattery and lip service." She moved back towards her tank, each step a fresh agony, each flexing muscle a burning sensation that could bring tears to the eyes of most. She hid her pain well behind a layer of defiance, each step seeming more steady until she reached her tanks ladder where she parked her pert rump upon a cold metal rung. Her hair falling to curtain areas that on a true lady would not be exposed to any but a husband but on a wild creature were considered no more private than hair on a persons head. 

A fine brow rose when he mentioned he wished to sing, for her mind already came to the conclusion of his mission here today before it was spoken and confirmed. Standing up and gripping the ladder for support she was tempted to refuse him, mouth opened in fact to utter the words of denial but she paused and briefly glanced about her dark little tent. "It is about time I took a break from grubby little children and drunken lechers." Sometimes, even if it were quieter and easier to manage than crowds, she could feel that fine line between patient caged beast and horrific murderess beginning to fray and needed a night away from the hurly burly life of a caged display piece. "If I perform for you I can assume that this will stay between us?" Gesturing to her own mutated form with an oddly fluid motion.

~~~

Vol followed her easily towards her tank and settled himself on one of the uncomfortable chairs nearby. Idly he wondered what sort of a picture the pair of them made. He a somewhat anachronistic dandy and her a naked beauty. The image brought a slight smile to his lips, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. He waited some moments before answering, to give the illusion that he was mulling it over. He had been bargaining since age eight, he knew the process well. In truth he had no reason to reveal Imalia’s secrets. He himself didn’t particularly care, though it was always nice to know, and he wasn’t prone to sharing information. The information benifited him very little, save as a bargining chip, and therefore that was entirely how he viewd this knowledge. He had already guessed that would be her price to accompany him, he had no problems paying that cost. Still, as he well knew, and Imalia too apparently, appearances were everything. He would not be too quick to agree. 

“I wondered about that” said Vol conversationally. “Why allow yourself to be chained as a freak and peered at as if you were some sort of bug in a jar.” He looked around imagining the place filled with humans and sneered. “Pathetic weaklings the lot of them. You are much better than they, why not exploit them? Or perhaps you already are.” 

He smiled a dark smile. Was it so different than say a dancer like Starla or himself who strove to always draw the eye? In retrospect he supposed it was not. And while her reasons interested him enough that he was curious, it was idle curiosity and such answers were not what he was after this day.

“It is a fair deal Lady Imalia. If you agree to join me in a duet this day, one to shatter the hearts and souls of all who hear it, then I saw nothing out of the ordinary. Anyone who says different is obviously lying, a fool, or both.”

Only a select few knew Vol’s opinions on deals, bargains, and contracts. He did not enter them lightly and he always upheld them. It was one of the few reasons he respected Mr. Seil, though he wasn’t very fond of the man. A deal was a deal, even with a dirty dealer. He would uphold his side of any deal he made, so long as the other party kept their end.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Imalia ran her fingers through her hair as she waited for Vol's decision, her own mind working on how precisely to drown Vol and make it look accidental should the need ever arise though dark eyes belied nothing as always. When question of her voluntary incarceration came up she had a faint grin on her lips, "Oh Vol you are a clever man, I am sure you could figure it out if you try." She paused a moment and glanced to her tank and the chains that bit into her wrists, when he seemed to capture the basic idea she smiled a little wider. "What relaxes a man when around a wild beast? Chains and bars, for it produces the illusion of safety does it not? A safe man does not need to have his guard up." Be they carnival workers or erstwise, would the strong man really feed her and keep her tank pristine if he knew she could slip her chains and break his neck whenever she grew bored of his service. Would any of the others sleep so deeply at night if they knew she could slip into their rooms and bite out their throat before they had so much as time to scream. Of course not, then Mr. Seil would be forced to cage and chain her properly, to force her to tow the line rather than trust her to do so until pushed too much. 

Imalia had learned from the human who had captured her how deceiving the chains were, his wife had always felt safe knowing she was chained, foolish woman. He too had assumed that he and his wife would be safe with her chained and incapable of leaving the water, it was child's play to drive the man mad and the woman to suicide and it was not even half of what they deserved. Had Mr. Seil not taken her when he did the mans own fate would have been far more interesting than just a bout of paranoid schizophrenia. Still, she was not a creature to dwell on the past or things therein, a shark did not lament over the tuna it had missed that morning but focused on the squid now within its grasp, half the problem with the more 'human' species of the azure is their ability to become depressed and melancholy over things that had happened and could not be changed. 

She had never heard of Vol's ways with deals or otherwise and thus did not know what sort of deal she had entered into but likewise she often kept to her word and did not give it lightly in the least. "Then I shall sing with you Vol." Though a question did strike her, "What preference do you have or do you have none?" A brief gesture to her legs was likely all that she needed, it hadn't been idle lip service to call Vol smart after all. If he needed her 'land based' it would be an idea to find her a costume and disguise her face, from where she was it would be rather difficult, though perhaps interesting, to have her on the main stage in her tank.

~~~

“I haven no preference Lady Imalia” he said. He looked the other siren up and down, clinically as one might study a painting looking for flaws. “It should be no problem to disguise your appearance to an unrecognizable level. On the other hand it might inspire idle curiosity among the others who work this carnival wondering who, what, when, where, all the usual annoying questions. Idle curiosity can be problematic. Even disguised however, I've no doubt men, women too if you should wish it, will worship you as a goddess. You could roam freely among the audience and scoop up whatever souls you wished to brand with a butterfly net. Metaphorically speaking. I wouldn’t suggest using an actual butterfly net.”

“Should you prefer your tank, I’m sure we can arrange that. Too bad we don’t have an illusionist or one of the potions for altering our dwellings…we could create a whole sea experience.” Vol smiled wryly. “The audience would love that…pour in like sardines into a drift no doubt, and be equally as doomed. Either way works. I care not. A meloncholy song be all that I wish—to shatter hearts and leave souls torn and bleeding.” 

What Vol really needed was someone who was skilled enough to accompany him, it was no ordinary person would could sing with a siren and not feel the effects of the Song. He also needed someone to take some of that emotion, the intimacy of singing, off him. A Song connected listener to singer, he hated intimacy--didn't trust it. Two Singers would split the listeners focus and relax that bond. He could do it alone but the thought was unpleasant enough to seek out another. He was fortunate Imalia said yes, he wasn't sure who else would be at all suitable. Starla might dance while he sang...that could have potential...but other than that who would have the skill or the talent to match his own? Plus he needed someone who would neither try to kill him nor bed him; that would sour the song and taint the purity of its effects. Imalia was really one of a very tiny few who was at all suitable. It was a pity she was so damned beautiful. While it wouldn't distract him from his own work and goals it was a pity he couldn't allow himself that small pleasurable distraction. He would have to store those thoughts for a future daydream. They would have a fair bit of work to do to get ready for the day's show no matter which form she chose.

~~~~~~~~~~

Imalia fell into quiet contemplation as he announced his lack of preference, while a disguise was all well and good, coal to the hair and to have it braided would make her look different enough by itself but with a dress and perhaps an eye mask she would look quite different indeed. However as Vol had said there would then be curiosity about a new singer at their circus and word would soon be spread and muttered and whispered until some little cretin stumbled onto the truth quite by accident. Further more those who had heard her sing before may well recognize her voice regardless what type of disguise she wore and so it was quite a risk for little reward. Even the idea of descending upon the crowd and scooping up her fill of souls and perhaps even a snack, was not enough to abate her concerns enough to warrant the risk. Her tank was cumbersome and hard to move -and she did so hate to be in it when it was moved, it was like being shaken by a person and left her both dizzy and nauseous and while it was quite confining and prevented her from collecting with much the same affect it was the safer of the two options. 

"I would be a goddess would I?" She finally purred with a hint of amusement, oh she was used to flattery and lip service but it was always a little surprising when it came from a new set of lips. First a lady and now a goddess, it was certainly a pleasant start to the day and had hope of staying that way. She glanced up to Vol as he spoke of illusionists and potions, "Yes, I do fear i bought the animal out in Eikki last night, he may sulk a while." She admitted with no hint of pride nor regret to her tone, "I still have my own potion, it seemed a waste to use it after all." She'd lived fifty years staring at the same four walls in a humans house and she didn't come to really notice the 'scenery' anymore, what after all was the point in torturing herself with sights of her home, the deep blues and reds of the corals, the brightly colored fish, the coves carved into the very land itself in shimmering clear seas. She was already in a cage she didn't need another prison nor to be dragged into the depths of regret and remorse. "Of course, if we are to use it I'd have to defer it's use to you." 

If there truly was no preference then the water it would be, far easier to spend the day with song practice and ask her 'helper' to move her to the main stage when it was time to perform then spend hours looking for a clever enough disguise. Taking hold of the ladders rungs she made to climb it, each step twice as painful as walking as it took twice the effort, not half way up with her foot numb and improperly placed upon the rung she slipped, her grip upon the ladder itself tight enough to ensure she slipped no more than a rung or two but further adding to her desire to be rid of the cumbersome appendages. 

~~~~~~~~~

“Pity” said Vol when she brought up the merfolk. “Eikki’s skills would be ideal. Deception of others is a fine thing but outright denial of one’s own self is just stupid. He and CeCi should start a club.”

His tone made it clear what he thought of those who tried to fight against what they were. It was so very foolish to sulk because you couldn’t deny your own nature. Vol had no patience for such folk. There were more than a few in the carnival who sought desperately to reject what they were; they were afraid of their own natures, fighting it like somehow that would make a difference. Some pathetic few even used their wish to try and deny themselves. A waste of time and effort and truly pointless as far as Vol was concerned. If you denied what you were you only ended up weaker for the effort. Why not just accept it and be done with it. You could lock away a part of yourself, chain it up and reject it but you were no different. Only lesser.

“If you don’t mind the use of your potion then that should be sufficient. I’m thinking the stereotypical mermaid, wrecked ship, drowning sailor crap will make the audience feel like they are a part of the song. Not that we would need the help--voice alone will enrapture. However appearances are everything, and a good show is truly inspiring.”

He watched Imalia struggle to climb into her tank but did not offer to help. She had not asked and polite though he may be he was not chivalrous unless it served a deeper purpose. Plus if he offered it would only point out a potential weakness, somehow he felt she would not appreciate that. Without warning he rose and even though his movements were sudden he was still graceful. He had caught telltale sounds that meant this discussion needs draw to a quick close.

“Someone approaches. I shall waylay them, tend to the details of the matter, and return that we may practice in comfort.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Imalia was rather glad he did not offer her any form of help or attempt to help her, she took a dim view on being observed as weak, another reason for her preference for her tailed form and it was with the thought of returning to her 'natural' and more comfortable skin that aided her in getting her feet once more under her and pulling herself up the rungs of the ladder. She did however pause as she heard more than saw the movement of Vol and as he crossed her dim little tent she listened rather carefully. He had heard something and urged her on while he distracted this potential intruder. "Until later then Vol." With a final heft she was at the top of the tank and there she perched a moment to blow Vol a kiss taking hold of comb and mirror and silently slipping into her cool, clear waters.