The dusk is perfect. It illuminates the whole expanse of the ocean in vibrant golden light; it casts looming shadows over the land; it lends an air of heavy evening introspection to Meixing's thoughts, even though the moment's thoughts carry no real weight. Her expression is loose and peaceful, and she is languid and lazy with the satisfaction that comes with being in the prime of her life. Her muscles are wiry and taut beneath her fur, her eyes shine with health, and now she has found love.

In the back of her head, she wonders about a family. Would Alduin want one? But the thought is dismissed as quickly as it comes. He's too unstable for that right now.

She is jolted out of her mind as her paw catches on a stiff twig. It snaps beneath her rough pad; Meixing is startled to realize that she's wandered to one of the far edges of the island where she rarely finds herself. The grass here is coarse and thick with receding winter, and the trees are higher than they are on the other side of the island. She remembers with a spark of excitement that the bay of glowing water is close to here.

Syrena