your heart, it's like a drum
the chase has just begun

It’s not often she is stirred to care about the happenings of the world. Truthfully, she would not even have stirred now had she not accidentally stumbled upon the new and strange. Life beneath the waves has long existed as a world apart from the one above. Waverly is only aware of this because she has had the unique opportunity to experience both in equal measure. An opportunity that had convinced her long ago that life in the sea is vastly preferable to one on the land.

Most days, at least. When hunting is plentiful and trials are few.

Today however, she is uncertain. She had not noticed when the sea claimed the south and an underwater kingdom had risen from obscurity. Of course, that isn’t terribly surprising when one knows the scope of underwater existence. What causes disaster in one place may bring barely more than a ripple to another.

So, to find a kingdom beneath the waves is something of a surprise to her. She does not care for surprises at all. Not even ones that shouldn’t come as a surprise. But then, Waverly has not always been the most logical of creatures. She prefers instinct. Instinct has never failed her.

Until now.

With cautious flicks of her finned limbs, she slips through the beds of coral, golden eyes roving warily over gently swaying plants too structured to be natural. She has seen enough of the ocean by now to know the difference. Predator she may be, but she has not survived the deep by being a foolish one. She is not the most dangerous creature that exists in these waters. Even her wide jaw and jagged teeth are no match for a behemoth shark or giant squid.

But this is no cephalopod’s lair, of that she is certain. No, something else built this. And Waverly, despite her many misgivings, is determined to discover what it is.

Waverly

your heart, it's like a drum
the chase has just begun

She might have been offended if she knew they imagined her lice-ridden. Or she might have been amused. It’s hard to say with a creature whose emotions can be as fickle as the undertow. But of course, in the sea, any parasites she might have would be the same ones crawling along his flesh. These deep currents are a great equalizer of such things.

As it is, when she realizes she is not alone, it is not potential parasites she is thinking of.

Her first instinct is to strike, but she reins it in, going against all that is natural to her in favor of logic. If the static crackle in the water were not enough, her rising curiosity would be. She would learn little about this new place if she tried to devour everything first.

She sees the glowing ochre hue of his aura first, pulsing his disdain into the water around him. It is almost a living entity, foul in the clarity of the salt water. There is no sunny tinge of fear, only the vibrating superiority.

A grin cracks her too-wide mouth at that. Nothing is safe underwater that believes themselves to be. Such belief leads to complacency, and complacency leads to death. She would know. She has been the death of many who fell into that trap.

Golden eyes bright in the sharp angles of her elongated face, Waverly watches the creature with a mixture of wariness and fascination. His shape is similar to hers while somehow also being utterly alien. Finally, after staring at him for an eerily long moment, she speaks, her voice a hiss through the jagged confines of her teeth. “What are you?”

She isn’t certain he would understand her, isn’t certain he would know the words that trip thickly across a tongue unaccustomed to speech, but still she tries. She wants to know whether this thing is predator or prey.

Waverly

your heart, it's like a drum
the chase has just begun

Waverly understands the dance of life and death beneath the waves well, but she is no purveyor of courtly intricacies. She does not understand subtlety nearly as well as many others. She is plainly spoken and understands plain speech in return. What to him might be obvious as a royal of this land is to her nothing more than ridiculous.

The teeth though, those she understands. They flash like needles in his mouth. It is a display she can respect, even if it does not spark fear. His teeth are made for gripping prey. Hers are made for rending. But she understands, and that brings a respect greater than any condescension or sense of superiority ever could.

There is nothing she respects more than the laws of might. Though she doesn’t believe he could kill her so easily, neither does she believe she could kill him easily either. And that is enough to draw her into an uneasy truce.

So she gives him that false sense of security he had so clearly been seeking. Her face shifts, the elongated jaw shrinking as jagged teeth melt into flat molars, the sharp angles of her features softening into something far more feminine. A face as achingly lovely as it is deceptive, golden eyes wide with an innocence that belies her true nature. Her finned and clawed feet remain the same, but it does nothing to detract from the stunning beauty and elegant lines that had replaced her predatory grin.

He wanted to call her little fish, and so she would be the little fish he believed.

“I was not aware I was trespassing,” she replies, a tremulous smile easing over her lips. She was aware, but she could lie as easily as any other. Her words are lyrical now, tripping across her tongue with more ease than before. “Are you upset because you believe I am a threat to you?”

Waverly

your heart, it's like a drum
the chase has just begun

Despite the cool waft of acceptance that so briefly tinges his aura, Waverly knows he is not genuinely receptive to her. It is there in the poisonous coils of disdain and disgust threaded so thickly around him. She may not be a reader of minds, but the pulsing wash of color surrounding him tells her as much as she needs to know.

She would tread carefully, yet he would receive as much respect from her as she received from him. Waverly may wear the trappings of placation well enough, but they are little more than that. She is still a predator, even if her face is one of prey. A pretty lure she had long ago learned to welcome.

A soft laugh bubbles up her throat at his swift denial that she might be a threat. She offers no response however, instead allowing her amusement to be washed away by the subtle currents. He is already continuing anyway, announcing a party just for her.

If she were as vapid as he seemed to think, her head might have been turned by that. But she is not, and though she believes he is telling the truth about a party, she is not fool enough to believe in the exclusivity of her invitation. Still, it is an opportunity to observe, and that tempts her where flattery does not.

When he demands she come, a slow smile begins to bloom upon her lips. “Will I?” she asks coyly, her golden eyes surveying him in a leisurely manner before slipping to the orderly coral gardens beyond him. Without waiting for him to affirm, she continues, “Mmm, yes, I think I will.” Bright gaze returning to her gloomy companion, she allows the smile to blossom in truth. “Lead the way, stranger.”

Waverly