Heron Lake Plateau young, violent, half-mad

There was no way for Sequoia to know she was talking about Camilla's people when she made her comment, but all the same the silver girl went from a calm puddle to a sharp-eyed, ear-slumped look of stricken shock as soon as she heard about this drowning business. It was probably just a story. Something that Sequoia had heard and never seen in truth. But Camilla had been raised on the stories of old, and could recount hazy lessons regarding the sanctity of female life (opposing the menfolk are not worthy subtext) and did not like hearing about sirens as tricky little monsters. It might've been true; she didn't want to believe it though.

She tried to relax before she spoke next, not wanting to fight with this new friend she had just made no matter how ill-informed. I was taught that life was sacred, and that we are daughters of mitéra Moon and mitéra Sea, our two mothers. It... It probably sounds odd. She flushed, unable to say more - or unwilling, afraid that if she shared any of her sisters' secrets it would come back to haunt her. Camilla didn't want to think about them, they were a lifetime away now.