The emptiness and solitude of the beach had become a most welcoming home for Ampoule. Ever attracted to bodies of water, she had existed next to the great inland river for quite some time, but when it had caught harmless fire and proffered large tomes to those who decide to wade in its depths, Ampoule had withdrawn with serious sense of finality and sought a more amenable clime.

The tidal zone had become it. It was less over an overwhelming sense of knowing -- and more of a brief flare of familiarity that grew into a steady appreciation. Food was aplenty. The humid air bolstered her complexion in ways she had only dreamt of.

The nymph had spent a multitude of days learning the topography of this new area, so that she could exert her prowess and blend into a vision of nothingness whenever it was rendered necessary.

When that was done, and there were fewer herbs left to catalogue the next day, then Ampoule went to the beach and allowed her feet to cool in the brine of the ocean. She smelled its scents. When an oyster forgot itself and became unearthed in the receding tide, the woman was upon it, hooking her teeth upon the razor edge of pry it open and drink the miasma that was inside.

It was like this, how Ampoule spent her days. She had never known such peace.

Now, the form of another loped towards her, at a speed she could only deem as intentional. Ampoule lifted her head and braced her own form, subtly framing herself for an impending meeting. It wasn’t often she saw others, and when she did, she wished to make a fine impression.