Skill:
Sienna looked to him with horror lacing her periwinkle hues, mouth parted as she took in his words with a truth she doubted he'd expected. And though they were the only ones around, Sienna ducked her head towards him and whispered, "Does that really happen?" the idea of it elicited a shudder from her. She supposed she had died and that made her what he described, no? A little fish could do it too. Would they eat her—would they eat him? The girl sighed and steered herself away from the remains warily, glancing back with every step as if to assure herself it would not come chasing her in the night.
Once she sat, it was with delight that she looked to her new friend as he accompanied her. His words confused her, spirited and odd as they were. "What are assholes?" Her eyes were bright as they fixated on him, but it was with a gentle laugh that she regarded his next words. "I am not truly alone! Not as much as you, I think. I have my tweeti—my songbirds. Oh! And my flowers." They all kept her company enough.
Sienna's lips twitched knowingly, but her expression was one of humorous disgust. "Well, fish killer, it's simple, really! I was never taught." But even if she hated the idea of being a fish killer herself, and the idea of the fish coming back to get her, she wished to learn how to do it for others. To care for those who have done so for her. She'd grown to hate being helpless.
So with caution, the girl followed his instructions, her gentle stare watching him aptly. Then her nose scrunched, "But I am not dead." no, no. But she might be, given she went through with his antics. And then! This little fish killer, he had the audacity to insult her stubby legs. She was tall, she could be tall. Sienna huffed indignantly and crept a little ways from him, her head lifted in an effort to insinuate she was more than capable of towering above the water streaming below. Even if the flow of it teased her sides. She would prevail, nonetheless.
Her head turned to him, eyes narrowed. "What next?" She'd whisper.
