A Shift in Perspective

Abigail raised her arms above her head, tapping the headboard with her knuckles gently as her body elongated in a pleasurable stretch across the bed. She blinked, her cerulean eyes adjusting to the bright light of the sun filtering in through the window. Sitting up, the amethyst-haired woman took in her surroundings and slowly remembered that she and Sam spent the night in the new, empty guest house on Violet's farm.

Her body ached, likely from playing the drums and moving all the heavy equipment from their first concert the night before in combination with mild dehydration. Abigail noticed that Sam was missing and rather than retrieving her clothing from the floor, the pale woman wrapped the sheet around her body to search for her boyfriend.

The blond was not in the bathroom, so unless he went outside, there was not anywhere for Sam to hide in the tiny cabin. It was then Abigail noticed the note on the table with shallow bowls filled to the brim with spiced pumpkin seeds, apple slices drizzled with caramel, and amethyst fragments.

Abi,

Went to grab some supplies for our special day together. Help yourself to some snacks if you get hungry.

I love you.

Your sexy rock god,

Sam

Abigail shook her head. Sam could be so cheesy, but the loveable dork made it work. Draping the sheet across her body for warmth, she sat down and nibbled on a few of the apples before treating herself to some amethyst crystals. Her boyfriend did not understand her eating habits, but still supported them. Sam tried to eat some amethyst once to humor his girlfriend, but he admitted it hurt his teeth to chew on them like she did. Now that she thought about it, no one else she knew other than her mom seemed to eat minerals in their crystalline form. Emeralds were Caroline's favorite, though they were not nearly as easy to obtain as Abigail's amethysts.

The woman with jewel-toned hair was beginning to get bored when Sam burst through the door, all smiles and sunshine. "Happy birthday, Abi!" he exclaimed, gently tossing several colorful bags onto the table. He scooped Abigail up in his arms and twirled around, taking a seat in her chair, his girlfriend now sitting in his lap. He kissed her gently, but she protested with how cold his skin was from his outdoor excursions.

"All in your name, babe," Sam explained, motioning to the gift bags on the table.

Abigail tilted her head to inspect the haul. "Are these all presents?" she inquired in disbelief.

Sam shrugged. "More or less," he conceded. The blond clarified, "Each bag has a fun activity we can do together."

Abigail eyed the bags, wondering which one she should choose first. Sam smirked, "I'll give you a hint. The red and green bags have some of your favorite foods in them, so don't pick those unless you're hungry."

The birthday celebrant caught a whiff of chocolate coming from the red bag. Abigail assumed it must be a cake. While she would enjoy the cake, it was better to save it for at least after lunchtime. Abigail opted to open the yellow bag, which contained her gaming console.

"Two-player 'Journey to the Prairie King'," Sam explained, patiently awaiting Abigail's choice. But his girlfriend was not about to voice her preference until she knew all her options. A blue bag containing a Ouija board and tarot cards, an orange bag with her favorite horror movies and a small variety of popcorn, and a purple bag holding a warm oversized sweater and a thermos of apple cider.

"These are all amazing, Sam," Abigail praised her boyfriend on his thoughtfulness, kissing the blond enthusiastically to express how much she liked the gifts. "Thank you!"

Sam grinned like a fool. "There's one bag you missed, babe," he informed her, tracing the lines of her body with his fingers. It gave her chills.

Abigail reached among the throng of bags until her hands found a black one. She peeled back the tissue paper that concealed the present and her crystal clear eyes widened in surprise. "Is this what I think it is?"

Her lover squeezed her closer. "You said you wanted to try it…" Sam reasoned with impish delight at her intense interest. The denim-clad man held her tightly as her fingers fumbled to open the box. The skater chuckled at Abigail's frustration as she fought the tape that secured the parcel shut. "It looks like you've decided what to do first." He took the sleek package from her and pulled a folding utility knife out from his back pocket, flipping out the blade and slipping it into the crevice to cut the tape. Sam handed the prize back to its recipient. "There!" he declared proudly.

Abigail bit her lip and glanced toward the door, noticing that it was definitely locked this time. "And no one will hear us?" she questioned Sam anxiously.

"We're tucked away in a private corner of the property covered in trees except for the crop fields over by the farmhouse," Sam assured her confidently, peeling back the sheet draping Abigail's bare shoulder and massaging the muscles. Abigail moaned softly at the touch. "I'll bet Sebastian and Violet are enjoying a day off from his classes at her place anyway, so I doubt they'll come around here looking for us. Not to mention Shane's got his own responsibilities as mayor now."

Sam kissed Abigail's back between the shoulder blades. "Shall we?"

Violet was confused at first when she only sensed one warm body in her bed. She was used to Bruno, who usually liked to lay at the foot of the bed, but now that the nights were getting colder, the enormous German shepherd had taken to sleeping back-to-back with his human. However, that space was currently occupied. Although Sebastian's face was buried under the blankets, Violet knew that he was the one sleeping beside her.

So where was Bruno? Violet hoped that her faithful companion had not been crowded out and spent the night cold and alone. Violet and Sebastian had even used the trundle bed attachment she had ordered from Robin so the canine would still have plenty of space to join them. She sat up slowly, trying not to wake her unconscious boyfriend and crept out of the bedroom to look for the dog.

Bruno was not sprawled out by the hearth, where the embers from the previous night's fire still glowed slightly among the ashes. Not under the kitchen table, either. The giant fluffy dog was nowhere in sight and there was no evidence of Bruno from the view of her front windows. "Maybe he found a rabbit to chase…" Violet considered. The former stray was a rather independent dog and wandered off to patrol the grounds often enough that the farmer decided not to worry too much just yet.

Instead, she opted to climb back into bed and cuddle with Sebastian for a while longer. As she eased herself back into the inviting warmth under the covers, Violet realized that the lump beside her was larger than she would expect for just Sebastian. Had her boyfriend collected a mound of pillows under there? She leaned over his unconscious form and peeked under the blanket, only to find a pair of soft, pointy ears.

Sebastian had his arm draped over Bruno! Violet scowled, though only half-heartedly since the scene was actually quite adorable. "Traitor!" she accused her canine companion with a hushed scolding. The dog lifted his head slightly and his black lips pulled back, his long pink tongue sticking out the front of his mouth slightly. "I'm supposed to be in the middle of this cuddle sandwich!" the farmer complained teasingly. "You have fur!"

Bruno lay his head back on the pillow, his furry tail wagging under the blankets with a muffled thump. Violet could not stay mad at those soulful brown eyes. She reached over Sebastian and ruffled the fur on Bruno's neck. "Fine. It's the weekend, so you stay in bed," the farmer sighed in defeat. "I'm going to get us some breakfast."

Today was the day. Shane stood outside the glass doors of the local Joja Mart, clasping the crisp white envelope that held his formal resignation letter in his meaty hands. He had been put on indefinite leave after his incident, so even if he was technically still employed by the corporation, the new mayor of Pelican Town had not reported to work over a season. It was time to make things official.

The current mayor of Pelican Town was not dressed in his Joja Mart uniform or the tattered blue jacket with the company's logo glued near the collar. The dark-haired man wore a solid blue long-sleeve t-shirt and long beige corduroy pants. While Shane had initially lost some weight after starting to train with Alex, he quickly discovered that the changes plateaued, since the medication to address his depression had a side-effect of weight gain. Still, the bureaucrat now wore fresh clothing that fit him well, free from holes or stains. Shane hardly recognized himself when he gazed in the mirror, though he still looked much the same. Emily accredited the dissonance to the fact that his aura was "slowly becoming a jewel-tone blue."

Not that Shane could see this aura anyway, but decided if Emily said it was true, that was good enough for him. Violet came outside to chat with him first thing this morning and they watered the crops and harvested the first wave of fairy roses, save for a few she kept planted near the bee houses for honey. The farmer shared that she expected to order her first coop once she got a payment on a business deal later today, so he could start working as a poultry farmer soon to earn extra cash. Luckily for the new mayor, the purple-haired woman seemed more than happy to allow him to live in the house on her farm for as long as he needed. Things were looking up, and Shane knew it was time to cut all ties with the employer that only prolonged his misery.

Pushing past his nerves and the transparent entrance, Shane entered Joja Mart, a different man than the one who clocked out that fateful rainy Saturday. Despite the time away, the place looked exactly the same. The off-white tile floor, the sterile metal shelving, and the fruit in large bins that were so brightly colored, they looked artificial. Shane did not see Cheryl at the register, but noticed his bow-tied nemesis milling behind the "customer service" desk to his right. It was really an open-air office for Morris to tell customers why their coupons were somehow invalid due to the microscopic terms and conditions printed on the backside. Not to mention it meant that Morris could keep an eye on things - and keep tabs on his employees.

Though with no employees that perk is useless, Shane thought to himself as he approached the desk. The young mayor leaned forward and tapped the bell with the envelope he held in his hand to get Morris' attention.

The stout man turned to address Shane and his eyes twinkled behind the circular frames of his glasses. "Welcome to Joja Mart, where customers come to thrive! How may I help you, sir?"

Shane balked at the generic greeting. Did Morris not recognize his own employees without their Joja Mart uniform? "I'm sure you heard about the election earlier this week," the farmhand began to explain, but Morris cut him off.

"Oh, I'm afraid we do not engage in local politics, sir!" the manager lied. Shane knew for a fact that Joja Corp. tried to do everything in their power to lower their taxes whenever possible. "We do not allow solicitations in our fine establishment, so if you would please see yourself out," Morris directed Shane toward the door with a phony smile.

The new mayor scoffed, though he was not shocked by Morris' tone-deaf replies. "I'm currently on leave with this company and here to submit my official letter of resignation." Shane slid the letter of resignation across the smooth countertop, the manager's name written across the front of the envelope in crisp ink.

Morris froze, as if his brain needed additional processing time to load his thoughts from an ancient company server. Finally, the shorter man's gaze traveled from the envelope to Shane's face. "Ah, Mister O'Shea," the regional manager apologized, though his tone did not suggest he was actually all that sorry. "Forgive me, it's been so long since I've seen you."

Shane tapped his fingertips to the paperwork on the counter and pushed it closer to Morris, but the man in the well-worn suit pretended not to notice. "Surely you intend on returning to work now that you've taken the time to properly tend to your mental health!"

The larger man was quickly losing his patience. "I quit, Morris," Shane reiterated firmly. "I filled out all the damn required paperwork, now take it before I decide to do something about it as the new mayor of Pelican Town."

Morris' eyes flickered to the envelope and meekly he tucked it away in his suit jacket. "Very well, Mister O'Shea," the man with the sculpted bangs conceded defeat. "I hope you know our door is always open should you find that your new occupation is a poor fit."

Shane returned the empty words with his customer service voice. "I'll be back before the end of the season to discuss your company's local business taxes." Morris recoiled at the phrase, his mouth twisting in disgust and the new mayor cackled on his way out the door, a victor in his own battle for happiness.

Elliott sauntered toward the riverbank south of Leah's cottage, where he and his dearest friend arranged to meet so they could admire the autumn foliage while sipping wine and waxing poetry. It sounded like a perfectly marvelous manner to spend an afternoon after having spent the morning recovering from the spirited noise the local band performed at the concert the night prior.

As Elliott rapped upon the door of Leah's quaint riverside cottage, his dear friend did not answer, even after he waited a respectable amount of time before knocking again. The honey-eyed man frowned. Perhaps he had misremembered the details of their arrangement? Elliott chose to stroll along the bank of the river in search of the fellow creative.

When the well-dressed man rounded the first bend of the riverbank, he spied a handsome red gingham picnic blanket. At first, Elliott assumed that it must be Leah, but he soon noticed the local children playing near the water's edge as Miss Penelope watched over them with a captivating air of serenity.

The emerald-eyed beauty immediately noticed his approach. "Oh, Elliott! It's perfect timing that you showed up!" Miss Penelope called out to him, raising a delicate hand to beckon him closer. Captivated by her possible intentions, Elliott approached the picnic spread. The thoughtful woman had provided her students with mugs of hot chocolate, a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, and a platter of candied apples. The long-haired man dared not impose, but he did wonder if these treats were purposefully left untouched or if Miss Penelope's cooking skills had improved since the Tom Kha she made for his birthday. Elliott hoped for the latter.

"I brought the children on a little field trip into the countryside," Miss Penelope explained to her unexpected guest. "I thought some outdoor play would do them some good." Elliott nodded in agreement and the woman invited him to join her on the blanket.

Seeing Leah was nowhere to be found, Elliott decided to oblige. "Aren't the leaves beautiful this time of year?" Miss Penelope inquired. Her expression was so charming that Elliott dared not disagree, though in this case the poet was of the same mind. Autumn leaves did have a distinctive appeal, with their bold colors and ephemeral existence. As he beheld the sight of her, Elliott could not help but notice that fall colors complemented Miss Penelope's complexion.

"So I was thinking…" the schoolteacher spoke up, "could you be my guest speaker today?" Miss Penelope's eyes darted away demurely, resting her slender fingers in her lap. "You have such a lovely way of speaking, I thought a fresh perspective might inspire the children for their creative writing assignment today."

Elliott did not hesitate to answer. "It would be my pleasure." While he had not expected to spend his day in Miss Penelope's company, he greatly enjoyed conversing with such a well-read woman. Not to mention her young pupils were delightful.

"Great! Let me call the children over," the young lady articulated apologetically. She inhaled deeply before cupping her hands around her nectarine lips. "Jas! Vincent!" Miss Penelope bellowed at such a volume Elliott had not thought possible for such a slight figure. "May I have your attention please?"

In an orderly fashion, both of Miss Penelope's students ceased their play and returned to the picnic blanket.

Miss Penelope's eyes caught the afternoon light in a breath-taking fashion as she made the proper introductions. "I have a very special guest here to talk to you today…" the woman made a graceful gesture toward his personage. "Pelican Town's resident author, Elliott!"

The youthful gentleman who had once declared Elliott his love rival scowled at the guest speaker when his beloved teacher's attention was drawn elsewhere. However, as a mature adult, the poet declined to return the childish gesticulation and turned to Miss Penelope for instruction.

Beginning the lesson, the lovely brunette sat gracefully on the blanket and motioned for the others to follow her lead. "Today, children, we are going to explore the wonderful world of creative writing. Today we are going to talk about similes and metaphors." Miss Penelope smiled at her beloved pupils, posing a question. "Can anyone tell me the difference between and 'simile' and a 'metaphor?'"

Both children's hands shot up into the air, extending to their fullest height and waving wildly. "Oh, oh, pick me, Miss Penny!" Vincent begged.

"Go ahead, Vincent," the educator urged sweetly.

Vincent puffed out his chest with pride. "A metaphor is like when a caterpillar turns into a butterfly!" the boy shouted eagerly. Elliott knew the young man held the utmost desire to impress Miss Penelope, but unfortunately his answer was incorrect.

The young lady beside him beamed benevolently at her student. "You're thinking of 'metamorphosis,' Vincent," Miss Penelope corrected him gently. She turned her gaze unto Jas, who seized the opportunity to answer.

"A simile is when you say one thing is similar to something else using the word 'like' or 'as,'" the intelligent little lady proclaimed astutely. "A metaphor is calling a person or object something else."

Miss Penelope encouraged her bright pupil to elaborate. "Would you give an example for us, Jas?"

The raven-haired girl bobbed her head, the thick pigtails bobbing slightly at the movement. "Miss Penelope is an angel!"

"How sweet of you, Jas," Miss Penelope replied to the girl in the lavender dress. "That's worth two star points." Jas cheered while Vincent pouted that he did not receive similar praise, but remained silent as his teacher made a request.

"Let's give Elliott our full attention," the beautiful brunette encouraged her students. Her emerald eyes rested on the published poet as she asked, "Would you please provide the class with a few examples of similes and metaphors?"

Elliott cleared his throat, glancing at his surroundings from which to draw inspiration, but he only had eyes for the lovely woman sitting beside him. Leah was indeed correct, and he was quite sure now that his admiration for his editor was more than mere gratitude. The sentimental man had fallen for the woman who extended a helping hand in his hour of need. Elliott wondered how he had not perceived the palpitations of his heart quickened at the sight of her. Or the way he yearned to hold her tenderly in his arms. How could I begin to express my feelings for her? Elliott reflected. The author felt no words were worthy of the honor, but he did his best.

"Miss Penelope is a compassionate being. Gentle, kind, and gracious to all around her…" the hopeless romantic crooned. As his amber eyes locked with the captivating brunette, Elliott lost his sense of self for a moment. "Miss Penelope's eyes are like glittering emeralds, rich in hue and ever-entrancing. I daresay I could gaze into them for the rest of my life and it would still not be enough to do justice to such brilliance."

Jas giggled like the schoolgirl that she was as Miss Penelope's face flushed crimson. "My, you chose such flattering words, Elliott."

It was another moment before the guest speaker found his speech again. It was such a rare occasion that he was rendered utterly speechless. "I only speak the truth…" he professed.

As Violet headed south toward the sewer entrance where Krobus requested she drop off the artesian goods, she spied Penny and Elliott on the riverbank. The farmer could see Penny's blush from a mile away, so the pastel-haired woman decided the best way to play wingman in the situation was to let this particular budding romance blossom on its own.

Violet held the crudely drawn map Krobus left in her mailbox, second-guessing whether or not she had gotten lost when she heard noises up ahead. Her cobalt eyes flickered toward the movement and discovered the two youngest residents of Pelican Town standing in front of a large, oozing pipe.

Jas' nose wrinkled in disgust. "Ew… it smells," she complained, her eyes watering slightly from the unpleasant odors emanating from the sewage drain.

Vincent descended the stairs toward the children and greeted them. "Hey, Jas! Hey, Vincent!" she called out to the kids as she approached. The woman tried to mask the fact that she and Jas had a similar reaction to the stench and instead plucked a pebble from the mud of questionable content and tossed it through the bars into the large pipe. The stone rattled on the metallic cylinder, the sound ricocheting within.

Vincent paused, his ears alert to any other possible sounds. "Why is it locked?" the strawberry blonde complained. "I wanna explore the sewers!"

"I think Gunther has the key," Jas informed her playmate.

The information caught Vincent's attention immediately. "Professor Gunther?" the boy in the striped shirt asked, his eyes wide with interest. "The man who runs the museum? Why do you think he has it?"

"I saw a big rusty old key fall out of his pocket one time," Jas shared with a confident grin. The little girl lifted a finger as she made her conjecture, much like a detective in old noir films. "A creepy sewer door like this has just got to be a match for a big rusty old key."

A squelching sound echoed from the enormous sewer pipe, and the noise became louder as its source presumably came closer to the barred entrance. The children shrieked in a panic and fled back toward the forest, running into Violet who stood atop the stairs.

"There's something moving around in there!" Jas wailed, hiding behind the farmer for protection. The pig-tailed child pointed toward the sewer pipe and Vincent gently nudged the adult toward the source of their fright.

Violet decided to humor the children and investigate. The pastel-haired woman held her nose to reduce her urge to vomit from the putrid stench and tried to avoid stepping into the worst of the disgusting green sludge. As she stood before the sewer pipe, she indeed heard footsteps approaching and a low moaning spilled out from the shadows.

"Who threw that?" a voice called out from the darkness. The children screamed in terror, fleeing toward the forest and the safety of Miss Penny, but Violet recognized the pair of eyes beyond the metal bars.

"Krobus, is that you?" Violet replied in a hushed tone. She did not want the children darting back into the wood unaccompanied, but she also had no desire to alert them to the existence of an actual monster living in the sewers.

"Who else would I be?" the living shadow countered flatly, but when he noticed it was Violet who stood on the other side of the bars, he cooed with delight. "You got my note!"

Violet extracted a large quantity of pints from her bag. "I brought as much as I could carry for now. The rest is still at the farm. I can make a few trips, or -"

The monster interrupted her. "Oh, no, this will do fine for now. I will collect the rest tonight myself!" Krobus snatched one of the sealed bottles, removed the cork, and poured the dark liquid into his open mouth. Violet did not think a shadow could become flush from alcohol, but Sebastian's childhood friend began to turn a shade of charcoal rather than pure black.

"That stuff must be pretty strong!" Violet observed, impressed by the results.

Krobus motioned for the rest of the bottles to be placed within the sewer pipe, to which Violet obliged. Then, the shadow handed Violet a large sack of gold. It was more money than she had ever seen. "This is half the payment," the monster informed his new supplier. "I shall leave the rest for you this evening." Krobus then sprouted several more arms to help him carry his purchase further into the maze of sewage, happily humming a tune Violet almost thought she recognized.

Much to his misery, Harvey quickly learned that the high humidity did not necessarily improve once the dark clouds overhead released their curtains of heavy rain upon the campsite. Even after the storm passed, the nearby river rushed with intimidating strength, pounding the soft earth of the banks and eating away at its soil like a hungry swarm of insects.

From their perch on a low-hanging tree branch, Talla watched the violent current almost wistfully, her slitted pupils following the debris as it was swept downstream by the murky waters. Harvey noticed that the syren's disguise had weakened since the incident in the desert. He wondered if it was because she was still not back to full strength or if the presumed object that gave her the ability to appear human - the shimmering gold shell she wore on a matching chain around her neck - had been damaged. Harvey did not spy any scratches or missing chunks from the smooth surface of the spiral shell, but he could not be sure.

Still, the bespectacled man was no longer so easily intimidated by the syren's predatory, shark-like eyes. They suited her, Harvey realized, just as he felt his thick-lensed glasses befit him so well. As Talla gazed fondly at the river below, the medic wondered how the demigoddess viewed the world around her. Clearly, there were differences in lifestyle and ability. The doctor was neither immortal nor a sea-dweller, but Harvey would not help but imagine, for example, if Talla saw a whole range of colors that his human eyes were not equipped to comprehend.

So while the roar of the water below was a fascinating if not frightening sight, the mustached male kept stealing glances at his half-mortal companion. What was on her mind as she watched the flooding river below? Why had she asked him to join her in such a precarious spot?

Talla had a way of reading his mind, even when Harvey spoke no words. "It is beautiful, yet the thunderous current could even tear apart someone who swims as well as I…" the syren mused aloud. "All this water," she sighed, a gentle breeze escaping her concealed gills and brushing Harvey's cheek, "so eager to return to the sea from whence it came."

"I did not think demigoddesses could die," the mustached man stated simply.

The teal-haired woman smirked, her teeth just a bit too sharp to be human. "We can be reduced to sea foam for a time, but we would regain the ability to take physical form eventually." Talla laughed, high and clear like a bell. "It happened to Neri once," the syren recalled, though Harvey noticed the merchant used her sister's name rather than her title. "She was too confident in her own strength and paid the price. I did not keep track of the years closely, but I would venture to guess it took her about a century to return to us."

Harvey sought to hear more about this story, but the syren turned her head to face him. "How are you faring after losing your first patient, Doctor?" she asked. "You mentioned your fear of failing those in your care as one of your primary concerns when you first agreed to come here."

Ah, so she's checking-in on my mental health. That was oddly considerate of her, though Harvey quickly recalled that Talla regarded him as an asset. The brunet heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the rough trunk of the tree. "I never really got the chance to treat him," Harvey responded honestly. "And judging from the wound, I doubt there was much I could have done to save him."

He loosened the collar of his buttoned shirt, peeling it from his perspiring skin. "I can't imagine it was pleasant for the soldier who lost his life in the end, but I suppose it was a mercy on my nerves. No one likes watching the light fade from another person's eyes."

"Sometimes the soul gives out before the body…" Talla commented. Somehow her voice carried despite the roaring of the current below her scaly feet peeking out from the skirts of her dress. "I suppose that would be alarming for a mortal to witness."

"The soul?" Harvey repeated inquisitively.

Talla nodded solemnly. "The light that emits from one's eyes, signifying life." She tilted her head in the doctor's direction. "If you have ever seen the eyes of a man who has lost the will to live, they are dull because the soul has left the body," she explained, dipping her webbed toes into the river's mighty flow. "A shell without an occupant is never quite as vibrant."

"Did the shell you wear ever have an occupant?" Harvey queried, trying to get enough information to satiate his unanswered questions indirectly.

"All discarded shells once housed a living thing, Doctor," the syren sniffed in amusement. "You land-dwellers seem to forget that fact when you collect them on your beaches." Talla held up the shell around her neck at the end of its chain to examine it, rotating the gold spiral slowly between her fingers. "Empty, they are beautiful, but they are most stunning when a creature dwells inside."

Harvey could appreciate some philosophy now and again, but her reaction did not address the intent behind his question. The physician realized he would have to be more direct with Talla if he wanted answers to sate his curiosity. "What lived in that shell you wear around your neck?"

Her brow rose slightly as she lifted the shell to examine it with her cool eyes and considered the query. "She was the last sibling I conquered before breaking out of our egg to hatch." Talla stoked the nautilus shell the size of her palm with her thumb. "It is now where I store excess energy for later use."

Her words served as a reminder to Harvey that no matter how personable Talla could be at times, she was still an alien entity in many ways. Adelphicide, even before hatching, seemed to be a grisly method of selection to only raise the strongest offspring. The doctor observed that suddenly the syren's eyes and extremities appeared human again, her disguise concealing her true form in full. Had Talla let it slip and only just now realized or was something else happening?

There was a commotion below, several men in uniform were calling for a doctor, and Harvey hollered down to those on the ground. "I'll be down shortly!" Gripping the bark of a branch above him to steady himself, Harvey began his descent. He paused briefly, offering his hand to the merchant who still sat on the limp over the water.

Talla shook her head, the gold accessories on her body twinkling softly. "I will remain here for a while, if you do not mind," she said, declining the offer.

Harvey shrugged. "Suit yourself," he replied, slowly making his way down the length of the tree back to the ground below. He had patients to attend.