Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away
It was just as well that she didn't quite catch his reply in the commotion of the fish catching. Maea would not have known what to respond to such a comment. At his reply about the fish, she just nodded and carried it back in the bubble, feet barely rippling the surface of the sea as she stepped across it. Behind her, the surf continued to sigh and swell, and when she stepped back onto dry land, it was moving freely again.
"Your welcome," she said. Letting enough of the water drain away, she held the fish still within its watery prison until the man could take it, then had the rest of the brine wash back to where it belonged. Not even ruffled, Maea considered the catch, curiously studying the colors and sheer size of it, not bothering to look up at the question.
"What is a Hel?"
"Your welcome," she said. Letting enough of the water drain away, she held the fish still within its watery prison until the man could take it, then had the rest of the brine wash back to where it belonged. Not even ruffled, Maea considered the catch, curiously studying the colors and sheer size of it, not bothering to look up at the question.
"What is a Hel?"
