Stavanger Bay you don't own me

Stitch squinted at her companion when she noticed the male lick his jowls, his eyes trained on the seagull she guarded carefully. As if insinuating that she wasn't going to share — she did all the work and in this famine she wasn't going to risk her life to be the nice girl, no thank you — she inched forward a bit, hovering over the feathered fiend she'd begun to eat. No, not fiend. Frank. Or one of Frank's kids or...a doppelganger of Frank, maybe. “Sirens have to eat too,” She cooed with an errant tilt of her muzzle but she kept the stranger in her crystalline blue gaze nevertheless. The truth was she was only playing coy because she didn't want to share her meal, but in all reality, she trusted too easily. She knew it, had been told as much more times then she could count by her overprotective and easily worried parents.

“Your song is a bit morbid, I'll admit.” She giggled and offered an shrug of her slender shoulders; and without warning she drew in a deep breath and began to sing: “My name it is Maria, a merchant’s daughter fair, And I have left my parents and three thousand pounds a year, Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be, Who love a jolly sailor bold that ploughs the raging sea.” because she needed a to look authentic if she was going to stick with her "siren" story, after all. She had heard her mother sing it a few times though in truth Stitch had never bothered to ask where her mother had learned it.