Wheeling Gull Isle give thanks to the deep

tyche whirled around, fangs bared when she heard the baritone voice of the male. she disliked being snuck up on, and she loathed being snuck up on by the lesser sex. the siren had never cared for males, although she tolerated them when needed. this was not one of those times. instead, she stared him down, lips curled back and the hair along her spine reaching for the skies above. she spoke no words to portray her message.