it's a guarantee that he won't forget me.
my body little, my soul heavy.
Everything has changed.
Three words Naia thought she would never speak. Over and over again she whispers them to herself. How did it happen? She barely remembers the change. Her time on the Mountain was brief: after the fairy chose her shells, she passed out from combined pain and exhaustion. When she awoke, sore and sniffly, her body felt . . . softer; it felt thirsty. She had rushed to the Hyaline lake in a blur, and that is where it happened.
She changed, and in her reflection she saw her beauty. A nereid, skin scaly and elegant. At first, she was fearful, but now upon the Nerinian border she feels fine.
It is clear in the limp of her step and drop of her skull that the appaloosa is injured and plague-ridden. How ironic that the fairies gifted her magic so beautiful while the sickness took her health. At least in her nereid form she appears the picture of health, soothing singing voice in tow. Perhaps if she had someone to worry about her wellbeing, she would use that gentle song to ease their concern; alas, she only has herself to hum to (and hum she does, her new soundtrack to convincing herself she will be all right).
Naia quickly crosses the kingdom, ignoring pain in the back of her throat as it intensifies. The crashing waves of the cliff-crushed beaches call to her. At the edge of the waterline she begins to change: the curve of her hips more feminine, the passing of fur into scales, the ethereal float of her mane and tail. She casts one look back, pausing only because she thinks someone may be there.
@[Brazen] hi i didnt proofread this sorry < / 3