10-04-2019, 08:36 AM
There weren't any books underwater.
The pages and the ink couldn't survive getting wet, after all, much less being fully submerged and likely moved around a lot. On top of that, there was no reason to read them - sirens weren't exactly the most cultured beings, despite their supposed beauty.
But this place, this was true beauty, she realized.
There were so many books here, towering far above her, in tongues she could never understand, words that she could never hear to repeat - and words that she couldn't read. It took her only flipping one of them open to remember that. A bright red book with a golden text on the cover sat before her, laying open to a page in the middle, where she stared at it, almost defiantly. Tell me your secrets, her eyes said, passionate and furious as any sea creature should be. Give me your words, book, so that I might speak them.
The book was, unfortunately, being obstinate in the whole being legible thing. She let out a strained huff, which sounded more like a harsh cough than anything, and flipped it back closed with her forepaw. It could keep its secrets. She could live without those words in her head.
She lived this long without them, she could survive this putrid swamp, as well.
The pages and the ink couldn't survive getting wet, after all, much less being fully submerged and likely moved around a lot. On top of that, there was no reason to read them - sirens weren't exactly the most cultured beings, despite their supposed beauty.
But this place, this was true beauty, she realized.
There were so many books here, towering far above her, in tongues she could never understand, words that she could never hear to repeat - and words that she couldn't read. It took her only flipping one of them open to remember that. A bright red book with a golden text on the cover sat before her, laying open to a page in the middle, where she stared at it, almost defiantly. Tell me your secrets, her eyes said, passionate and furious as any sea creature should be. Give me your words, book, so that I might speak them.
The book was, unfortunately, being obstinate in the whole being legible thing. She let out a strained huff, which sounded more like a harsh cough than anything, and flipped it back closed with her forepaw. It could keep its secrets. She could live without those words in her head.
She lived this long without them, she could survive this putrid swamp, as well.
tags - "speech"
dms are always open if you need to talk to someone or just want a friend :^)