Firefly Ravine between the devil and the deep blue sea

As her song ended and the final notes evanesced into the atmosphere, Indie was made aware of another in her presence— an audience.

"That was a lovely song,” the voice spoke.

The chanteuse turned her head and craned her neck to glimpse a women, black of fur and  with striking eyes, just as she had; but the stranger was fine and small where Indie was large and buxom — and Indie’s could not help but allow the edges of her lips to turn up in a smile. She loved an audience, especially one that adulated her performance as this one did.

”Thank you,” Indie chimed in the same sing-song voice as before. Old habits were hard to kick. ”I’m Indie.”

Then, without warning, the siren lunged towards the waters of the ravine and swiped a paw at its bejeweled surface, sending up a curtain of water that wetted Indie and got in her eyes — temporary blinded, Indie did not see if the water had reached Tytonidae nor the stranger’s reaction to such unwarranted playfulness. Often, Indie would do unexpected things in the name of gauging another’s reaction and pinpointing their persona, but [this time] the action stemmed from playful wishes and a sense of light heartedness. Good-natured laughter pealed from Indie’s throat, hoping to set a upbeat tone for their interaction and wishing that her desires would be returned.