Wheeling Gull Isle xxiv. i know you been locked up there

anyone going for Caregiver perhaps?

Bubbles spilled from her lips, crystalline, each the prison to the fragments of a rainbow, to drift upwards - towards the light, the surface. 

Rhælla allowed her limbs to drift weightless, her spine twisting just so, as lavender trailed the graceful glide of a stingray fluttering past - a strange butterfly in an alien world of water. After a moment, the shadow dissapeared amidst a billow of sand, around the crags of coral, and the selkie pirouetted - returning to her task. 

Fish gathered, flitting about to snap up the chunks of loose meat that rained down as the girl pushed and pried with paws and teeth, mussels rising to bob along bouyantly, in wait of the Lady to gather them. 

When her paw jerked, sliding across the razored rim of a shell suddenly, there was no time to recoil, to prevent the fleshy pinkpads from slicing open. Rhælla grimaced as the white-hot flame seared across her palm, ruby dancing in the water before her eyes in small crimson clouds. 

The last of her air had escaped, inadvertently gasping when her paw was sliced, and the fae was forced to kick to the surface. Hurriedly, gasping, she gathered the mussels floating about in her jaws and returned to shore. 

Dropping the crustaceans with a sharp clatter, the drenched Lirean limped to shore on on three legs - searching for herbs.