"Stop, you'll make me turn so red everything in the Mire will see me and then I will have to somehow figure out how to come back and do the same to you!" It's been a while since she was last teased like this and away from every marker of the familiar, it's making her more flustered than usual. Before it was comments to Araceli-thief-in-the-night or admiring eyes as she moved along the rooftops, a call to her down at the docks and along the promenades, the queensguard and queen herself in the palace where the words were less bold but the deeds moreso when they all took risks behind pillars. "Who knows, I'm only young, perhaps there is still a chance for me to be an honest woman so far from all I know."

Not that she knows how the hell to feel about that but then maybe no one does. You seek a port in a storm or you drop anchor same as even the most fervent Son will cling to a rock or driftwood until the sea decides no, you are mine, I will have you this day.

"Something else that isn't me?" Or her swaying hindquarters. "How about your magic - what is your favourite sort to use? Is it a challenge to use it about here with all the water? I notice mages tend to 'plant' themselves, until you do that whooshing thing at least. That must be trickier here when you could sink more than on solid ground."