She finds no home anywhere. She never has, though. That was how she was raised, moving from one place to the next. When she left her mother’s side, she knew no other way of living, and so she kept moving. Syrena had seen so much of the world that way, traveling from one part of the sea to another, crossing lands to find those places where the water touched. It was a beautiful life, really. New places, no familiar faces. Just her and the land and the sea. Always, the sea.

Until, of course, she stumbled into Helovia. There ought to be a sign, some giant warning scrawled in blood just to get everyone to pay attention. WARNING. NO OUTSIDE MAGIC BEYOND THIS POINT. Because if she had known, she never would have come. If she had known, she would have turned tail and found a new part of the sea. Because now, she had nothing. This place had taken her life from her. Her magic was her life. Without it, she is no longer immortal, and no longer herself.

And she cannot get it back. Not all of it, anyway. But if she wants any of it, she’s stuck in this place, toiling away in the miserable hell of this heat, trying to earn back scraps of what she was born to be.

So she stays, the Hidden Falls being the closest thing to home she’s ever going to find. At least there are pools here, places for her to hide away from the faces of others (not, that she runs into all that many others around this place either). And so she toils away for this place, checking the borders now and again beneath this blistering sun. This is why she finds the mare, who’s actually already crossed into the borders of the Falls like she either belongs, or because she didn’t know better. Syrena doesn’t care why. Honestly, for all she knows, this mare belongs here. Though she doesn’t smell like it.

“Who are you, and do you belong here?” she asks, her voice deadpan. It’s not accusing or mean at least, just a blunt question. Syrena’s no good with pleasantries or tact. She can’t be bothered to waste the time, if she can help it. And she doesn’t care that she’s interrupted some weird song or ritual. Honestly, the girl seems mildly nuts, if you ask Syrena. But no one asked her, so she keeps that opinion to herself. Instead, she wades into the river herself, the shallow water’s warm in the heat of Tallsun and therefore turning her legs a swirl of red and orange. And there she waits, looming just large enough to be mildly imposing, for an answer.


les words "chat chat"
Sorry, she's a grouchy lady :/

Syrena

let the water take me

There are a few amazing things about this mare. One, that she looks at Syrena rather calmly, as if a half-fish/seal mare had not just been straight up rude (granted, Syrena was not the one trespassing, but still). And two, then she just keeps on signing. Quieter, but still, singing. And probably more like singing now than just yelling. But whatever, at any decibel, it’s annoying. And three, because Syrena’s decided there’s a three, is that this mare has managed to find this place without having a clue where she is. Which, she supposes, is possible. But still.

It takes so much effort not to just tell the girl to get out and be done with it. So, so much. She probably deserves a medal. But then the mare is stepping forward, faster than Syrena is ready for, and plants a kiss. No. Oh, hell freaking no. Syrena whirls backward, farther away from the mare than before, and putting plenty of space between then so there are no more sneak kisses. Or touches of any kind. That is not okay. That is so many levels of not okay.

She takes a moment, and a few deep breaths, so she doesn’t decide to just murder the mare (that would actually require touching though, so she’s not going to do that anyway), before answering. “This,” she says through slightly gritted teeth, her usually deadpan voice laced with some annoyance now, “Is the Hidden Falls, and there is a herd that lives here. And you are trespassing.”

But oh no, of course the crazy singing, no-sense-of-personal-space mare wants to stay. She bites back a sigh. Be nice, Syrena. Nice gets you places. “You won’t find shelter from mosquito’s here, but you will find a home. I can’t offer it to you, but I can help you find someone who can.” Well, maybe. She hadn’t seen Brisa or their supposed King or Isopia lately, and she didn’t know who else there even was around here to accept the girl. Not that Syrena would be terribly disappointed if the mare gave up and left. But ugh, Syrena was trying, so she nods into the kingdom a bit and steps out of the water. Might as well set off and try to find someone. “I’ll show you around while we hunt for someone. I’m Syrena,” she adds, trying to remember her manners. Oh, Gods help her. She’s not cut out for this.



les words "chat chat"

Syrena

let the water take me