ISLA
I do. Isla almost purrs through the bond, and quite without permission, she's gliding through the water after Remi. I want it to crunch. I bet the waves will churn when it goes down, she agrees; unlike Remi, Isla has only ever attained glimpses of Attuned shifts, and it's impossible for her to ignore the lure of instinct. Overhead is what looks like a teeny tiny toy shadow. Between them she's sure they could play catch with the ship, right?
What shall we do? I want them to know we're coming. Maybe she'll peep a tentacle above the waves. But oh, it's so dark - what if they don't see it. With tentacles flexing, as if each one is a palm grown itchy, Isla frets and warbles through the deep. They probably don't even realise the danger they are in.
What shall we do? I want them to know we're coming. Maybe she'll peep a tentacle above the waves. But oh, it's so dark - what if they don't see it. With tentacles flexing, as if each one is a palm grown itchy, Isla frets and warbles through the deep. They probably don't even realise the danger they are in.
apres moi le deluge
after me comes the flood
after me comes the flood
