Blackwater Islands Oh Comely

While the Matriarch took some joy in the fear Whip displayed around the Sisters, for they were as savage as the churning sea, she didn't gain anything useful from it except, perhaps, loyalty. Her grasp on leadership was secure until a more experienced, more venerated Sister came along to retrieve the mantle, and males were of little consequence to this. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved from the shore to the surf, but quietly hoped he didn't notice how much the initial sting of the salt against her raw skin pained her.

Even so, she moved languidly through the calm waters, and even pushed off the bottom to swim in a lazy curve until she faced him again. His unease was almost palpitable and to her object horror, she felt a small twinge of sympathy for the boy. Stamping it down and locking it tightly behind her normal indifference, she hauled herself out of the ocean until she stood beside him in the shallows again with water cascading down her pelt. Akantha wrinkled her nose. "Wade until you hit your mental block, and then keep going until you can barely touch the bottom. If we get past that, and it doesn't come naturally to you, then we'll talk about how to do it." Because he likely wasn't reassured by that idea, she flashed him a predatory grin, "I won't let you drown." 

And, with that, Akantha strode casually back into the water though this time she stopped just short of the drop off. A wave crested over her back and she winced, again, as the salt and cold bit into her wounds.