let dust be dust and the good lord near

Caiaphas slipped into the murky waters with the sinuous reflex of an eel. The dark water parted and small java-moss clusters were disturbed by gentle ripples. Her passage through was done with ease -- the bland and currentless waters were nothing compared to the roaring and impetuous current of the sea.

It appeared that Crescendo was not to be deterred by the water and was soon abreast of her. She turned her head marginally towards him (as much as one could while paddling to stay afloat) with a gaze that suggested disinterest. "If you're going to engage in conversation," She instructed between splashing paddles of her limbs -- "it is wise not to refer to your conversational partner as a maggot." She strode along the water seamlessly, enjoying the exercise the effort brought her.. Each powerful stroke of her limbs transported her further from Crescendo's pack -- Caiaphas caught herself hoping that the distance would eventually deter Crescendo's insistence. "I'm looking for a type of moss."