Her mistrust of the situation only grew as the seconds ticked by. She was still standing just beneath the stallion who had so recently worn the guise of an inky cat. The predation hadn't left his eyes, the hunger that sang just beneath the surface.
He reminded her of sharks. They swam in lazy paths most of the time, never ceasing the movement that kept them alive and subtle in most ways. Beautiful to look at. Harmless, except for when hunting. Or threatened. Different teeth than the great fish bore grinned back at her from the shaggy black horse's mouth, but they were still too jagged to promise anything good. Those were teeth that had drawn blood before. Drank it down and wanted more. Strange against the equine jaw, but she had seen stranger things in the deep.
With a slow, sliding feeling, the nereid realized she was being played with. He was a cat toying with some new scrap of life, hoping it would keep him entertained for a minute or two. The realization irked her.
She blinked coolly, voice flat now that the easy joy was gone from her day. "And if I don't?" She asked, nodding to the chilling specters that were so hard to pin down with her gaze. "Will you set them on me even if I don't attack them first? Your entertainment is hardly my first priority at the moment." She took a single step closer, a defiant flintiness in her eyes now.
Eva often teased her about her predilection for starfish, something that had become a bit of a joke between them. But it was as much a joke as a reminder that Aquaria was not the pacifist her herdmate was. If Eva was calm seas and safe harbors, then maybe that made Aquaria the tempest, the punishing storm that took back what was taken from the water.
Whatever she was, it was with effort that she reined it in. Her temper had a way of making trouble for her, and there was none near enough to bail her out this time around. She laughed harshly, a short bark that belied no humor. "Much as you might need it, I'm not the one who will force a bath on you. You may find that your friends here are not the only stubborn things present." She saw no reason to give her name in answer to his own. Names were a power that she wouldn't give him.
Atrox. The way he said it was as if he expected she might recognize it. And perhaps she should. But the sea mare had not grown up on tales of life above the waters, no stories of equine heroes and villains had put her to bed. His name meant nothing except that it gave her a label for the creeping man. All that she had was cold water to lap at her, a shield as of yet untested against tooth, claw or spirit. She would not throw the first blow, but she would not bow down to a bully either.
@[atrox]