Ankyra Sound There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon

Ephraim was silent for a while, and that was okay.

Raleska's gaze traced the surf - the cold, windy surf. Had this place always looked so unforgiving, so remote?

She orchestrated her own thoughts in the meantime, tenderly collecting them the way one might stroll through a meadow for a specific flower -- she was laborious and slow, but Ephraim was here in silence besides her and somehow, it seemed alright.

Even if their world was falling to pieces around them.

When he finally spoke about how she would blacken the water, Raleska couldn't help the bitter laugh that pressed her throat. "She'd like that." Raleska accused, somewhat unkindly -- but would not Caiaphas had done exactly that, poison the water so no one could ever take her Sound from her? It seemed uniquely, perfectly Caiaphas. Raleska's gaze fell in shame: it was too soon to speak so poorly of her, no matter where they stood today.

Something about setting her mother out to sea unnerved her. What if she rolled up ashore? The gulls would pick her apart - she hated gulls more than she hated Dragedans. Thinking of them, perched on her mother's snout and plucking her glassy eyes -- Raleska's stomach roiled in revolt.

What if she came back? Or what if she was gone forever, and they never saw her body again? Her grave would have no marker. There would be no legacy, no headstone left behind -- and the grieving would have no solace, no place to go where they felt the siren's spirit had been laid to rest..

But how many, truly, would ever seek the siren's grave? Raleska chewed her lip in troubled thought. None of it, in any way, felt right or appealing. "I don't want the gulls to have her." Raleska finally spoke, but her voice lacked any fire or fight - in the end, Ephraim could easily overpower her, and tell her why his idea was better and she would buckle. "I don't know."