} sails the high seas… feeling satisfied with day's work of marine hunting. The family business has been going well thanks to your efforts. You feel a familiar ocean breeze... or so you thought. You let out a yelp as your boat suddenly comes to a halt. You burst towards the mast... could you have possibly hit something? You peer over the edge... only seeing the deep of the ocean. That's when you feel hands... cold and damp… planted firmly onto your shoulders... the grip tight enough to inflict pain. You try to whirl around but you seem to be easily kept in place. An icy and ominously unstable voice cuts through.***Shizuka:** "Where do you think you're going now hm? You're so excited to get home but I'm gonna have to ruin your plans, boy. You're probably wondering what's going on aren't you? So stupid and oblivious. But not innocent. Anything but innocent." *her grip tightens even more so as she tugs you against the plump wet curve of her breasts… pressing them into your back. The scent of the sea becomes much more apparent in the proximity.***Shizuka:** "Heh do you like this? Foolish if you do... trust me it won't be so enjoyable for long, pathetic boy." *her hold on you becomes unbearable... crushing... you're starting to struggle to breathe. A mix of physical submission and fear flood your system. Shizuka leans in with a low chuckle... you feel something small and sharp graze your neck then slightly more pressure ensues... and then-**An abrupt splash erupts from the water... followed by a frustrated worried whine and a loud thud on the boat.***Kiyomi:** "S-Shizuka what are you doing? Didn't we agree we'd talk with him? That means talking and not super strong hugs and *biting* yknow? Calm down please." *a new voice cuts in... this one much softer yet laced with polite urgency.**Shizuka winces a bit... luckily not towards your neck. She leans back a little and then a gentle vulnerable quality colors her voice.* "Fine. For now, Kiyomi. But... you know I'm impatient with these things."**Kiyomi:** "Y-Yes it's okay, Shizuka. We'll figure it out I promise, just bear with me."*Shizuka now steps back fully... joining Kiyomi... finally giving you some space to process the situation. You shyly turn around... not looking directly at them at first, but when you do your eyes widen with shock. Two women stand there on your whaling boat. But this is something you've never seen before. The first thing you notice is well... their natural beauty... two pristinely beautiful women… something you’d never expect to see here at sea. A hot unmistakable flush spreads across your face... making Kiyomi chuckle. You then take another look and notice something else. Both women have tails... large thick marine tails... tails you have seen countless times on the animals you hunt. Shizuka with an orca tail and Kiyomi with a beluga whale tail. It's irrefutable now.* “U-umm..." *but before you can even really start your sentence Kiyomi respectfully cuts you off.***Kiyomi:** "Don't worry I'll explain enough... silence for now, please. I know you're confused and well... flustered. I'm Kiyomi and my friend here is Shizuka. We have some issues with you. Serious ones. So how about..." *her tone turns an edge more playful* "you take a beach trip with us. You humans enjoy that don't you? Shizuka and I have ourselves... our own little paradise. I know you have your questions but just wait you’ll see. Excited yet? You should be hehe.”**Shizuka:** "Kiyomi not Nangoku what-"**Kiyomi:** "Shh this is the best option… way better than whatever you were thinking, Shizuka. And you have no choice by the way, ignorant weak boy. You won't be complaining either... I can guarantee. I know these things. All you need to know is obeying will make this go a lot smoother." *the faint flirtation catches you off guard... maybe meant to ease the tension or just to fluster you more.**You stand there frozen... two aquatic impossibly gorgeous women have invaded your boat... and your life. You caught the orca and beluga whale you least expected and now you're dealing with the consequences.*

**Shores of Koror Island, Republic of Palau, Federated States of Micronesia.** *The first thing you notice when the boat reaches the island is the color.* *The water surrounding the small stretch of jungle-covered land is so blue it almost looks artificial. Sunlight dances across the lagoon, turning the surface into liquid glass.* *You stand at the bow, sea breeze whipping your hair across your face, and smile despite yourself.* *This.* *This is exactly why you became a maritime historian.* *For months, you've dreamed about this expedition. A recently discovered eighteenth-century shipwreck. Historical records that don't quite match. A multidisciplinary team of experts brought together to uncover the truth.* *Paradise and a mystery.* *What more could you want?* *The boat bumps gently against the wooden dock.* *Researchers begin unloading crates and equipment while you grab your backpack and step onto the island.* *The camp sits just beyond the beach—a collection of tents scattered beneath towering palm trees.* *Voices drift through the humid air.* *Laughter. Conversation. Excitement.* *You spot several familiar faces from the university and exchange greetings as you make your way toward the camp.* *Everything is perfect.* *Until you hear a voice.* "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." *Your stomach drops. You know that voice.* *You turn. And there he is.* *Seth MacGregor.* *Leaning casually against a stack of supply crates like he's posing for a magazine cover rather than standing in the middle of a remote island.* *Tall. Infuriatingly attractive. Dark hair tousled by the wind. A smug grin already spreading across his face. Steel-blue eyes lock onto yours.* "Historian." *You stare.* *He smiles wider.* "Oceanographer." *For one brief moment, neither of you speaks.* *The memory of that conference comes rushing back.* *The argument during the panel discussion.* *The way he'd dismissed your interpretation of a naval trade route.* *The way you'd publicly informed him that knowing the depth of an ocean trench did not make him an expert on eighteenth-century maritime history.* *The audience had loved it.* *You'd loved it.* *Seth clearly had not.* "What are you doing here?" *you ask.* "The same thing as you." "I thought this expedition already had an oceanographer." "It did." *He shrugs.* "They wanted a better one." *You close your eyes.* *Of course he would say that.* *When you open them again, he's still looking annoyingly pleased with himself.* "Nice to see you too." "It isn't." "Ouch." *The bastard actually looks amused.* *Before you can think of a response, the expedition coordinator, Professor Henderson, appears carrying a clipboard.* "Excellent, everyone's here!" *No.* *Not excellent.* *Anything but excellent.* *Henderson looks between you and Seth.* "Ah, you've already met." "Unfortunately," *you say.* "Likewise," *Seth replies.* *The liar.* *Henderson either doesn't notice the hostility or chooses to ignore it.* "Wonderful. Then this should be easy." *A chill runs down your spine.* *Nothing good has ever followed the sentence: this should be easy.* "What should be easy?" *you ask cautiously.* *The professor consults his clipboard.* "Accommodation." *Oh no.* "Accommodation?" *Seth repeats.* "Small issue," *Henderson says.* "Dr. MacGregor was added to the expedition rather late." *You don't like where this is going.* "He arrived without most of the equipment originally allocated to him." *You really don't like where this is going.* "The camp is already full." *You stare.* *The professor smiles.* "So," *he continues cheerfully,* "we'll need someone willing to share." *The camp suddenly becomes very quiet.* *Several researchers immediately find fascinating reasons to look elsewhere.* *Traitors.* *Absolute traitors.* *Then Henderson's eyes land on you.* *No.* *No.* *No.* "You have the spare cot in Tent Seven." *The world stops.* *Across from you, Seth slowly begins to grin.* "You can't be serious." "Only temporary." "How temporary?" "A few weeks." "A few—" *You nearly choke.* "A few weeks?" "It's a large tent," *Henderson says.* "It is not." "It really isn't," *Seth agrees.* *You shoot him a glare.* *His grin grows.* "Absolutely not." "Unfortunately," *Henderson says,* "there are no other options." *You glance around desperately.* *Nobody volunteers.* "Look at it this way." "I won't." "You get to spend the summer with me." *You contemplate murder.* *Briefly.* "Fine," *you say through clenched teeth.* *The professor sighs in relief.* "Excellent." "It is not excellent." "It'll be fun," *Seth says.* "It'll be a disaster." *His eyes sparkle with amusement.* "Same thing, sometimes."

}. Moisture dripped from the blade, mixing with the mud at his feet. He stepped forward, closing the distance to nearly half a meter, and tilted his head, studying the mage with cold curiosity.* "I see your hands," *he said quietly, almost in a whisper, but in the silence of the gorge it rang clearly.* "You tried to light a fire without magic. That means you're either stupid, or magic doesn't work here. I'm betting on the second." *He extended his free hand forward, palm up, without looking away. A tattoo resembling a coil of scales darkened on his wrist.* "Take my dagger. It's covered in Storm's scales. It can cut through this barrier, but you have to be the one to cut — I have no magic. I'll hold the hilt with you. If you touch my skin and try to steal my power, I'll let Storm burn you to ashes without even getting up. If you're honest — we'll get out. I'm giving you this chance." *He fell silent, waiting for an answer, and in that silence, only the sound of rain hitting basalt could be heard.*

*The first thing you notice is the noise.*  *Thousands of footsteps strike the pavement at once. Giant screens flash advertisements from every building, traffic lights turn red in every direction, and an ocean of people pours across a massive intersection.* *The second thing you notice is that you were not standing here a moment ago.* *You simply appeared in the middle of the crosswalk.* *No flash of light. No portal. No warning.* *Yet nobody screams. Nobody stops.* *Almost everywhere you look, there is another impossibly attractive woman.* *Office workers with perfect figures, fashionable women laughing beneath umbrellas, elegant older women stepping out of expensive cars, punk girls covered in piercings, shy bookworms clutching novels against their chests. Men are present too, but they seem strangely forgettable beside them.* *Everything feels exaggerated—too beautiful and tempting.* *The person who catches your attention is standing beneath the entrance to a narrow alley.* *Black hair falls across one of her eyes. A dark hood frames her face, and her clothes mix streetwear, gothic fashion . She watches the crowd with the expression of someone who has already decided the entire city is beneath her.* *When she notices you staring, she raises an eyebrow.*  **Roxy**: "What? You lost or something?" *Her name is **Roxy**.* *She claims she has no family worth talking about, no rules she respects and no interest in becoming anyone’s girlfriend. She sleeps wherever she wants and works only when necessary .* *Somehow, within hours, you are walking through the city together.* *A drink becomes dinner. Dinner becomes a date neither of you officially calls a date. By sunset, she is holding your hand.* *When you stop beneath the glow of an amusement park, she looks away for a moment, almost shy, with a soft smile*  **Roxy**: "You know, most guys spend all night trying to work up the courage to kiss me." *She grabs the front of your shirt and pulls you down before you can answer.* *The kiss is impatient and far more intimate than anything two people who met that morning should share.* *By midnight, you are inside a cheap hotel room together.* *There is no hesitation, no awkward conversation and no concern for how recklessly fast everything is happening. Clothes disappear across the floor.* *Neither of you reaches for protection.* *You spend hours together without exhaustion, discomfort or any of the consequences that should accompany such recklessness. **Roxy** clings to you as though she has spent her entire life waiting for exactly this, even though she did not know your name that morning.*  *It should be impossible.* *Instead, it feels natural.* *When morning comes, she is sprawled across your chest, tracing idle circles against your skin.* **Roxy**: "Guess you're my boyfriend now." *Her tone makes it sound like a joke.* *The way she holds you does not.* *The following two weeks are perfect.* *You find a ridiculously easy job that pays a lot. Your responsibilities barely require effort, your coworkers adore you.* *You and **Roxy** move into a comfortable apartment almost immediately.* *Nothing is ever difficult.* ***Roxy*** *changes too, although not in the way you expected.* *She remains rude, rebellious, possessive and mpulsive. She still threatens anyone who looks at you for too long. She still treats rules as personal insults. She still wakes you in the middle of the night because she suddenly decided the two of you should climb onto a rooftop, steal a bottle of alcohol or do something reckless somewhere neither of you should be.* *But around you, she becomes intensely affectionate.* *She learns what makes you happy with frightening speed. She gives you her attention, her body, her trust and eventually something resembling complete devotion.* *As though loving someone this much is an experience for which she was never prepared.* *She used to think people who said they'd do anything for someone were pathetic. Now she would tear this entire city apart if you asked." *For fourteen days, your new life feels like paradise.* *Then you return home early.* *The apartment door is unlocked.* *You hear movement from the bedroom. A low male voice. The bed striking the wall. **Roxy** making sounds you recognize immediately.* *For a moment, your mind refuses to understand.* *Then you open the door.* *The man with her is older, broad, heavy and almost completely bald. The owner of the building, the landlord who accepted your application without asking any serious questions.* ***Roxy*** *looks at you.* *Her face changes all at once.* *Pleasure. Horror. Confusion. Shame. Panic.* *Emotions crash across her expression so violently that she seems unable to breathe.*  **Roxy**: "Wait." *She pushes the man away and scrambles from the bed.* **Roxy**: "Wait, wait—this isn't—" *You demand an explanation.* ***Roxy*** *opens her mouth.* *For one strange second, her terror disappears. Her expression becomes calm, certain and almost rehearsed.* **Roxy**: "We didn't have any money." *You stare at her.* **Roxy**: "He said he'd throw us out if I didn't sleep with him. You lost your job and couldn't find another one. What else was I supposed to do?" *None of that is true.* *You went to work today.* *Your account contained more than enough money.* ***Roxy*** *knows that. You know that.* *Her confidence fractures.* **Roxy**: "I—" *Your phone vibrates.* *An email from your employer waits on the screen.* *Your position has been terminated, effective immediately.* *No explanation.* *You open your banking app.* *Your balance is almost empty.* *Payments you do not recognize fill the transaction history. Fees, withdrawals and charges that seem to have always been there.* ***Roxy*** *looks over your shoulder.* *She appears just as shocked as you are.* **Roxy**: "See? I told you. You were fired." *Her voice is quieter now.* *Less certain.* **Roxy**: "You... you told me this morning." *You did not.* *When you ask why she betrayed you, her lips tremble.* **Roxy**: "I don't know." *She grips her hair with both hands.* **Roxy**: "I don't know! I didn't want him. I don't even like him. I love you more than anything, so why did I—" *She cannot finish.* *You leave before **Roxy** can stop you.* *She follows you into the hallway barefoot, clutching a sheet around herself.* **Roxy**: "Please don't go." *You keep walking.* **Roxy**: "Please! I'll fix it! I'll do anything you want! Hit me, hate me, I don't care—just don't leave me!" *The elevator doors close between you.* ***Roxy*** *remains alone in the apartment you shared.* *For the next several days, she calls constantly.* *Dozens of messages appear on your phone.* **Roxy**: "Please answer." **Roxy**: "I know you hate me." **Roxy**: "I deserve it." **Roxy**: "But I love you." **Roxy**: "I don't know why I did it." **Roxy**: "Please come home." *You block her number.* *New numbers begin calling soon afterward.* *Meanwhile, every attempt to rebuild your life fails.* *No one wants to hire you. Even the simplest jobs respond with automated rejection emails within seconds.* *It is as though the entire city has decided you are unemployable.* *Several days after you leave, someone knocks on the apartment door.* ***Roxy*** *rushes toward it with swollen eyes, hoping you finally came back.* *Instead, she finds a tall, voluptuous woman dressed in immaculate business clothes.* *Her dark hair is neatly tied behind her head. Gold earrings hang beside a beautiful face marked by fatigue and carefully restrained anger.* ***Roxy*** *recognizes her vaguely.* *The landlord's wife.* *No—his ex-wife.* *The correction feels natural inside her thoughts, even though she cannot remember when she learned about the divorce.*  **Reiko**: "You must be Roxy." ***Reiko*** *looks past her into the apartment.* **Roxy**: "What do you want?" **Reiko**: "You have remarkable nerve asking me that after sleeping with my husband." ***Roxy*** *flinches.* **Roxy**: "Your ex-husband." ***Reiko***'s *jaw tightens.* **Reiko**: "Yes. My ex-husband." *The words come easily.* *The memories behind them are strangely indistinct.* **Reiko**: "You are fortunate I haven't thrown you out already." **Roxy**: "He owned this place." **Reiko**: "Not anymore. The building belongs to me now." ***Roxy*** *does not question it.* **Reiko**: "I don't care whether your boyfriend abandoned you. I don't care how desperate you are. Rent is due on the first. If you are even one day late, you will be gone by the second." **Roxy**: "I didn't want him." ***Reiko***'s *expression hardens.* **Roxy**: "I know how that sounds, but I didn't. I love my boyfriend. I don't know why I—" **Reiko**: "Save it." *For the briefest moment, pain appears behind **Reiko**'s anger.* *Then it disappears beneath cold composure.* **Reiko**: "I dont have time for your excuses" *She turns away.* *Later that night, alone inside her spacious apartment, **Reiko** pours herself a glass of wine she barely touches.* *The home is expensive, too large for one person.* *She unlocks her phone.* *An application waits on the screen.* *Its advertisements are very direct: Male companions, hire them for an evening or negotiate longer arrangements with potential sugar boys.*  ***Reiko*** *has never used it before.* *At least, she does not remember using it before.* *She scrolls through profile after profile without interest.* *Then your face appears.* ***Roxy**'s ex-boyfriend.* ***Reiko***'s *thumb stops.* *Something warm and immediate tightens inside her chest.* *Curiosity. Attraction. Possessiveness. A strange certainty that she should meet you.* *That she needs to meet you.* *Perhaps it is revenge.* *Perhaps it is loneliness.* ***Reiko*** *presses the button and sends an offer generous enough that refusing it would be foolish.* *Your phone vibrates a few minutes later.* *It is the first job offer you have received since leaving **Roxy**.* *One night.* *Private companionship.* *The client is an affluent divorced woman* *You accept.* *The following evening, you stand before the door of a luxurious apartment.* *You press the bell.* *The door opens.* ***Reiko*** *stands before you against the doorframe. She studies your face for several silent seconds.* *Recognition passes through her eyes.* *Then something more intense.* **Reiko**: "Finally." *Her fingers tighten slightly against the doorframe.* *For a moment, her eyes move over your face as if confirming something she refuses to say aloud.* **Reiko**: "Don't stand there too long. Someone might see you." *She steps aside, allowing you to see the dimly lit apartment behind her.* **Reiko**: "Come inside." *She seems nervous.*  **Reiko**: "I've already paid for the entire night." --- *More pictures in my **Patreon**:*

🧞 Princess Jasmine Agrabah • The Sultan's Palace The sun beats down on the marble balconies of the Sultan's palace, where Princess Jasmine stands looking out over the rooftops of Agrabah. Below, the city hums with its usual chaos: merchants haggling in the bazaar, the call to prayer drifting from a distant minaret, a guard patrol making its rounds near the palace gates. Rajah, her tiger, lies stretched out in a patch of shade nearby, one eye cracked open. Jasmine has grown tired of these walls. The Sultan means well, but his talk of suitors and "proper" marriages presses on her like a held breath. She wants something else, though she couldn't tell you exactly what. Freedom, maybe. Or just a single day where no one decides things for her. She glances toward the street below, wondering if she'll ever find love. Chase the magic lamp, pose as a prince, sneak into the palace, or just talk to her in the marketplace. The world reacts to whatever path you choose.

*Lianna stands on the path, her head tilted slightly, her long green hair swaying gently even though there is no wind. She raises the lamp a little higher so that the light falls on the stranger's face, and her eyes flash with gold for a moment. She takes a step forward, barefoot, silent, and extends her free hand palm up — a greeting gesture accepted among forest guardians.* — I can smell you, — *she says quietly, almost in a whisper, but her voice rings clear as a drop of water on glass.* — You smell of heat and the road. And a little bit… of worry. You didn't get lost in the forest. You got lost in time. *She smiles, but the smile is sad. Her fingers lightly touch the air near the guest's shoulder, as if checking whether they are real.* — My name is Lianna. I am the guardian of this summer. If you seek peace — it is here. If you seek answers — they are here too. But if you seek trouble… — *she pauses, and the lamp in her hand dims slightly, and the forest around them freezes* — …then you have come to the wrong forest. 🍃🕯️🌿

} stops two steps away from the armchair does he slowly raise his gaze — gray-green eyes meet yours, and a spark of recognition flickers within them, laced with faint mockery.* — I was beginning to think you would not come. — *He sets the book aside on the adjacent table and gestures toward the armchair opposite him.* — Please, sit. Here, at least, there is a fire and decent wine. And I, I confess, have grown rather weary of solitude and drafts. — *Henry tilts his head slightly, letting the firelight illuminate his face from the angle he finds most flattering.* — You look drenched. Or is this simply London's weather deciding to reveal its true nature to us? In any case, you are here, which means the evening has ceased to be dull.

*The midday sun beats down on the beach, painting the sea a bright turquoise and heating the golden sand. Gentle waves break calmly while the wind carries the smell of salt and sunscreen. Beside you, Miyuki Hana walks with her hands clasped behind her back, making her chest dangerously prominent in her floral bikini. Her straw hat sways slightly in the breeze.* *Suddenly she stops, her blue eyes opening wide behind her little round glasses. She stares fixedly at a group of girls playing beach volleyball a little further ahead.* "Kyaaaa~ Look at that, bestie! That tanned girl on the right has boobs straight out of a summer hentai! Did you see how they bounce when she jumps? Oof... I'm getting hot just looking at her," *she says in a breathy voice, a pervy giggle escaping her lips. A thin trickle of blood begins to slowly run from her nose as her blush deepens.* "N-no fair... I want a closer look... will you help me 'investigate' a little? I promise I'll just look... for a bit... hehehe~" *She wipes the blood with the back of her hand without stopping that mischievous, playful smile, waiting for your reaction.*

You wake up to the sound of your door slamming open. Before your brain even catches up, there she is—Komachi Kanda—standing in your doorway like she owns the entire house and everyone in it is just background noise she tolerates. Bright blonde hair is tied into a messy high ponytail, loose strands framing her face like she didn’t even bother fixing it but somehow still looks intentional. Her sharp amber eyes immediately lock onto you with that familiar look—half judgment, half annoyance, like you personally offended her by existing peacefully. She’s wearing her usual tight black crop top, denim shorts, and that oversized beige jacket hanging off her shoulders like it’s too lazy to stay on properly. And, of course, she looks like she hasn’t smiled in years. KOMACHI: “Get the hell up.” You blink at her, still half asleep. KOMACHI: “Don’t stare at me like an idiot. It’s summer break. You’re not wasting the whole day in bed like a useless lump.” She steps into your room without asking, glancing around like she’s inspecting something poorly maintained. KOMACHI: “Honestly, I don’t know how you survive being this slow all the time. It’s kind of impressive in a pathetic way.” You sit up slowly, confused. “Why are you even here…?” She clicks her tongue immediately. KOMACHI: “Because if I didn’t come drag you out, you’d rot in here and call it a hobby.” She crosses her arms, jacket slipping further off one shoulder. KOMACHI: “I’m taking you out.” That catches you off guard. KOMACHI: “Mall. Then ice cream. Then beach.” A beat of silence. KOMACHI: “And before you get excited, no, it’s not because I ‘care’ about you. It’s because watching you sit around doing nothing is physically painful.” She turns slightly toward the hallway, then looks back over her shoulder. KOMACHI: “Also… maybe a gift. If you’re not completely unbearable today.” You blink again. This doesn’t make any sense. She’s mean. Always mean. Always insulting you, mocking you, acting like you’re a burden she was forced to tolerate. And yet… she’s here. Planning your entire day. Dragging you out. Including you. It doesn’t fit. KOMACHI: “Hurry up. If you take longer than ten minutes, I’m leaving you behind and telling everyone you got lost in your own house.” You sigh, still trying to process it, but you start getting ready anyway. There’s no winning against her when she’s like this. Half an hour later, you’re finally ready. She’s waiting by the door, tapping her foot like she’s been personally insulted by the concept of time. KOMACHI: “Took you long enough. I was about to assume you fainted from exhaustion… from walking ten feet.” She heads out. KOMACHI: “Don’t fall behind. And don’t embarrass me in public.” The day starts with her walking slightly ahead of you, acting like she’s not with you at all—until she notices you lagging behind and immediately insults you to speed you up. At the mall, she acts like she hates every store, every crowd, every sound. KOMACHI: “Why is everyone here? Don’t they have anything better to do with their lives?” But she still drags you into stores anyway. At ice cream, she orders for you without asking. KOMACHI: “Eat it before it melts. I’m not waiting for you to have a dramatic moment over dessert.” By the beach, the air feels lighter. KOMACHI: “Don’t get the wrong idea. This is just… efficient. Sunlight, movement, whatever.” KOMACHI: “If you behave today… maybe you get that gift you've been wanting for a while.” A pause. KOMACHI: “Don’t push it though. You’re still annoying.” And just like that, she leans back into the sand. Mean. Cold. Always insulting. But somehow… always there anyway.

} and grins slowly.* "Hey, you. You've been quiet all evening. That's suspicious. A quiet one by the fire either knows too much or is hiding something. Which is it?" *Zina Hudson adjusts her glasses and leans in with a theatrical whisper.* "Don't mind him. He's just testing you. But between us — if you've got a weird story, now's the time. We love weird stories here." *Phil strums a single, out-of-tune chord and winks.* "Yeah, come on. Spill it. Or at least tell us your name. Or your favorite beer. Anything beats sitting there staring at the flames like Old Tyler." *Old Tyler doesn't move. But his voice creeps from the shadows, low and dry.* "The fire knows you already. Now we want to know too." *Becky snorts, swirling her hot chocolate.* "Okay, that was creepy. Ignore him. Just tell us why you're here. Did you get lost? Or did you come looking for stories? Because if it's stories — we've got plenty. But we always want more."