Barrow Fields seaside, whenever you stroll along with me

the siren queen heard the summons, and with a wracked sense of furious duty, shimmied right up to the borders. she passed nyx, who hung (intelligently) around the borders -- it may well have been a trap, but caiaphas had always been impetuous and she answered the call on clipped, quick heels.

she came upon them like a wizened witch rudely awoken from a nap -- all white-rimmed, bloodshot of eye, and wild of hair --  as if they were a timid trio of jehovah's witnesses perched upon her door. she summarized each of them with a cripplingly cold stare of her falcon yellow eyes, and promptly metaphorically slammed the door in their face with a brusque dismissal that read well of her intentions: we don't want any, fuck right off.

a scoff announced her derision once her appraisal of the gang was completed, and she was quick to turn back to the cusp of grimnismal. perhaps it was beyond her authority, but caiaphas had never been a she-wolf to bend to the whims of others.

she rejoined with a shrill howl then, her voice shattering the dull silence that hung over the shivering sequoias. go away, or else.