He might’ve scared her half to death, he wasn’t sure. He’d done well so far. After leaving the waters of Sahova, his Seahorse, Kyaluti, had been fine – but the darned, beautiful thing had decided that plumrose anemones were interesting. And now, Sume knew he was in danger of blowing his cover. He was emotionally distressed. He loved Kyaluti, and he needed help. Travelling through the waters of Mura might have been an otherwise ethereal experience. Sneaking in through the water gates, stealthily being unseen – but now, he would have to impersonate one of these lovely creatures. Sume had heard about the Konti, and knew they had a tendency to be psychic, so he had every reason to be nervous. What if they should see straight through his impersonation? Not everyone looked kindly upon a Charoda… He had left Kyaluti to rest, tied safely to some sea-boulders. Sume swam now, sleek body flitting through the waters undetected, and – Yes, he might’ve scared her half to death. He was in somebody’s underwater home, separated only by delicate glass. He saw a small Konti, perhaps a wee bit smaller than himself, arranging glass jars upon a shimmering shelf. The Konti furniture was a thing of loveliness, and for a moment, Sume watched, mesmerized. Then, remembering his poor steed, he knocked on the glass – once, twice, and she turned, fixing her silver eyes upon him. Or her – Sume was trying his best to impersonate one of her own, after all. She waved, albeit hesitantly, and he waved back, before pointing upwards to motion to the surface. She nodded and left the room, and he surfaced. The sun was glorious. It struck what he knew was gold and turqoise skin, but hopefully she would see a complexion of soft ivory, and large blue eyes. She approached, and he smiled, walking out onto the shore. He made sure he was walking at the right pace – he hadn’t been on land for so long! As she neared him, he spoke: “Hello, my name is – ” Is what? “Dalia.” Dalia? Eh… Hopefully she’d buy it. “I need your help. You see, I acquired a Seahorse from my journey to Charbosi last winter, and I’m afraid it’s nibbled on some plumrose anemone…” |