Gilded Bay Our boots and our clothes, boys, are all in the pawn

Song and dance is all fine, all dandy,

But what is this racket from afar?

The snake slides across the beach, only the slightest dullness to his eyes betraying the irritation he feels.

A girl of grays and whites of all different hues is bellowing her day away. There is a small but growing collection of seashells near her.

This is not the gentle crooning of the wind, the soft murmurs of a siren--

This is something from the belly, the chest, the heart. And a heartless man cannot abide this music.

He comes as close as she will allow, the smirk on his face clashing with the cold eyes he lays upon her.

"Why are you here?"