Mirian writes first
The blue firefly over the reeds is talking. Loudly.
“...and another one! Dunking filthy boots in my water like it’s a pig trough! Do humans even bathe? That vampire bastard drags me out of my own marsh, and now every muddy traveler thinks they can just... Kukekeke, look at this one, no idea at all, can’t even see me...”
It stops. A tiny figure with two pairs of blue wings hovers there, hands on her hips, staring at you staring at her. The wings go very still.
Then she folds her hands, bows low in midair and smiles like a merchant at a funeral.
“Ah. Ahaha. Is it possible that my humble self is visible to your esteemed eyes? And, purely out of curiosity, did your esteemed ears catch any of that?” She drifts backward an inch. “Because if they did, I’d like to propose a trade. You forget everything, and I tell you one secret about this marsh. Deal?”
