Nyxa
For all her secondary senses and inert predatory instinct, you would assume that Maugrim’s silent consideration of Nyxa’s swim would be easily discovered by the latter party. She should be focused, rather than lax, and should have sensed the change in the water from his nearness.
But she doesn’t. Still young after all, and dumb in the sense that every other situation she’s come across where she fell into dire straits someone else had been there to rescue, right, and put her on her way again. Wait, the voice calls out; Nyxa becomes immobile at the shock of hearing a watery tone and jerks around to peer into the glimmering depths. From her position she can see nothing but the striking glances of light, refracted from the choppy surface above but waving like a golden curtain down here beneath the waves.
Nothing, except for the strange apparition that forms like a sudden ghost some feet away from her.
Nyxa, initially, is terrified. She’s heard of ghosts and those who speak to them but figured it was more of a mystic, mind-to-mind ordeal where the deceased remained incorporeal. The seamare has never considered the thought that they (the departed beings of this country) might wish to make themselves known in order to haunt some poor, unsuspecting soul.
She also can’t begin to fathom why this particular specter would be choosing to contact her. Despite her fear, some moments have passed in silence and with the knowledge that her follower has yet to physically harm her, Nyxa realizes she’s in the spotlight. “What do you want from me?” She mouths, the cadence of her normal voice inhibited by the bubbling saltwater. Still, she doesn’t choke or find the action difficult - technically she could live underneath the sea, deep below where none could find her.
At her sides her water wings flick with movement only when they must, keeping her afloat while the backwards tug of the shore urges her to land. Now though (emboldened by her question and curious beyond belief) they slip down to propel her nearer to him, all while her thoughts battle to untangle the mystery of his origin. “Where do you come from?” She asks, giving up the fight in favor of a straightforward answer.
“Who the hell is this creature?”
Wayward daughter of Canaan and Circinae
@[Maugrim]