Fishblight Mire ✢ Sɨnɨɨh

Shiruyeh watched the man with a lazy, half-lidded gaze, amusement curling at the edges of her lips. His laughter was unpolished, his words frayed, but there was a certain charm in their rugged edges; like a well-worn relic, roughened by time yet no less valuable.
„Drown? Forget to swim?” she echoed, tilting her head with mock offense, „Oh, darling, I do much worse than that.” A slow stretch, a languid roll of her shoulders as her tail traced idle patterns on the ground, „It is good that you are not a fish, indeed. For your sake.” His teasing did not go unnoticed, nor did the sway of his tail or the way water still clung to his coat. Golden eyes gleamed as she let a smirk pull at her lips.
„Oh, I would hate to see such a mighty hunter succumb to the depths,” she mused, tapping a claw against her chin as if in thought. „But I suppose… if you sink, I may just wade in after you. Or,” a pause, deliberate, calculating, „perhaps I’ll watch and see if you can claw your way back to me instead.”
As he turned back to the water, throwing that bold little wink over his shoulder, Shiruyeh merely sighed, stretching out as though the very idea of effort exhausted her.
„Impress me,” she purred, resting her head on her paws. „Catch me a monster worth waiting for.”