That morning, on another uneventful patrol of the beaches on another uneventful day of an uneventful life, she girl sprang into the sea. She was a flicker of flame that divided the waves, strokes long and purposeful, mind doubtless and unafraid. She had held herself at an arm's length from the Undersea wolves, she had lived on the fringes, grown and matured. She had no true attachments - not really. The few she had cared for had vanished, her life before the island had never truly returned to her muddled mind. It was on the shores of some unknown beach she hauled herself from the waves, her coat made coarse by salt and brine shedding the water further as she moved inland. In her childhood, she had desired the sea, been enticed by it, loved it. And the sea had drawn her into it and almost killed her, it had taken her past life and fractured it and set her upon the shores of Undersea. And now it delivered her calmly to another shore, one she walked across silently, boldly, wondering what the lands she had turned her back on would hold for her now.