O day of tears! Whence comes this spectre grim,
Parting, like Death's cold river, souls that love?
Is not he bound to thee, as thou to him,
By vows, unwhispered here, yet heard above?
The sadness, was absent.
It wasn't gone, no, it was there...lying in wait for the waters to recede, and take all the peace with them. It was so very quiet...the small, pale faerie felt the cold wind on her strangely hued skin, and closing her eyes, she let herself fall forward. The moment she hit the ice water, she sighed, the breath escaping as a stream of bubbles. Her dark hair clouded around her little face, as she sank lower and lower. Because her eyes were lidded, and she was in a deeper place, beyond the reach of disturbance, she didn't see the bodies floating past, or the debris. After a minute, a child's doll hung suspended in a grave that had probably claimed the youth along with it. But Mouse was the mistress of the water. She felt it tug at her, trying to persuade her to let go, and swallow the peace and cool calm of the icy liquid. But one of her rare smiles lit her face up instead, and she opened the small glass bottle she had slung around her neck, allowing the trapped air to flow into her lungs. Immediately, the water rejected her, pushing her small body towards the surface. Mouse's head broke it without so much as a gasp. She was silent and kept her eyes close as she drifted to shore. The small ripples that she caused, were the only disturbances on the surface of the new ocean. The grassy shore was a relief, though, and her muscles relaxed as soon as she stretched out on its supporting back. She wrung her hair out, humming delicately to herself.
" Why is everyone so distraught by this miracle..." Mouse mused in a whisper. She remembered running from the monstrous wave, which she had seen in the distance...leaving the one who called himself Keenan. Her violet-tinged skin was nearly all exposed, the only parts covered were those below her hips and her breasts. But she slipped the stockings off quickl, not wanting to catch a sickness from covering her legs in the soaked fabric. She was left in her white bikini, the one with black spirals patterns on the corners. The dark night made the cover of the restless water smooth as glass, but far more menacing. She let one of her very rare smiles flick across her lips, then fade as she gazed upwards at the black sky. Scant illumination came from the light smatter of stars and the light from the stronghold behind her known as the center of the core. It caused her skin to glint, and shine dimly. Slowly, Mouse rose to her feet, and twirled once, walking along the water's edge. She played a a game. Hopping on debris, never letting her toes touch the water. Once or twice they did, and she gasped before gambolling back to the shore and beginning all over again. Finally, when she tired of it, she just stood facing the surrounding lake, stretching her arms out and rolling her head around with her eyes closed. The flood had been the happiest and sweetest kind of bliss.
MOUSE
I ask you riddles, tell you tales,
But all our conversation fails.
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