Witch's Marsh I'm in my tropical love-land.

There were many things wrong with her current situation that she wasn't willing to face yet, chief among them was her collection of new friends but her loss of beloved family. It was wrong for her to pine for something impossible, and she knew that. Wrong of her to focus every moment on what had been lost rather than what had been gained - because there had been gains, many of them, each of them precious. Had she not left the Hollow then Ibis would've probably continued to be an airheaded little girl intent on entertaining people rather than being useful; she'd never have been faced with Mal, who might've been a bitter pill to swallow but had helped her to grow. The loss of Elysium would've been easier to handle if she'd had her father to guide her through it. Maybe the rest would've been different too: maybe somehow by setting off on her own grand adventure, the universe tilted out of her favor? To say she blamed herself for the death of Lily, the dissolving of Elysium, or her subsequent status as a lone wolf, was not entirely accurate. Ibis knew it was ridiculous to dwell and to lay blame when what she really lacked was control. It wasn't her fault. It was just the way fate transpired.

Still, as she stood upon the soft edge of the pond and watched as the stars filled the expanse... Ibis couldn't help but think, 'This is beautiful,' and, 'I wish you could see this too, Lily, Seabreeze, Olive... Eleuthera.' The names would've continued to flood her mind had she not heard the sound of water dripping, or seen the soft shine of a nose - then eyes - as Kukulkan lifted his chin. Her blood ran cold when she saw the shape drifting close in the dark; the thin veneer of starlight gave a subtle indication of the general shape coming towards her, and some primitive part of her screamed, 'Danger!' even after the shape spoke; perhaps growing stronger because of that voice.

The quiet of the pond was ruptured, then. A small moment, the sound carrying over the pond's surface, her brain working hastily against her first gut instinct to run as it recognized the voice. Her whole body was stiff now, not even shivering, and as Kukulkan went on to speak with his warm voice, she felt herself steady again - calm, coming in a wave, rolling from her constricted throat down to her belly and away. Her tail bristled but she shook it briskly, which might've come across as a very jovial wag.

Ya hurt? Spoke the crocodilian creature, for that's what he resembled the most where he lurked in the dark water. Ibis almost couldn't look at him - she felt so embarrassed for that split-second of terror, more-so for being caught entirely off-guard by his presence. Furious, almost, which made her tight-lipped. At the very least the shock of the pirate's appearance had tried her tears; she took a few breaths to steady herself further and to allay the urge to yell at him, but her voice was still a bit strained with emotion as she said, No, I'm not. You -- you surprised me.

Then she looked up to the sky, trying to ignore the warmth flooding her face. That fight-or-flight response rooted in her belly but it shifted too, losing the fear but keeping the fire. I was remembering someone very important to me. Someone I lost. But I'm okay, she elucidates with a somber tone, and finally drops her attention away from the stars overhead to trace the constellations mirrored around the boy, gasping softly at the sight of it. Isn't the water... aren't you terribly cold? Ibis murmurs softly to him.