Re: lake, by the shore
She wasn't very good at veils, and she didn't know how to manipulate. She'd never tried, but she was certain she would fail terribly if she did. He didn't need to worry about guile or machination in her company. She was mad, true, and the world was prismatic, vivid and vibrant, and she could feel the pulsing in her belly if she just closed her eyes and let herself spin. Which she did for a moment; she spun. In the water, the muck filling her shoes, and the world was beautiful. Seeing it like this, without concern or regard to sanity or not sanity, was beautiful. The girl saw everything with her eyes closed, and she was content in a way she hadn't been before the drink of insanity had slithered glowingly down her throat.
"You're kind," she told him. It was a response to his niceness about the fish. An unkind man would've laughed at her certainty and singing, but he didn't, and she decided immediately that she liked him. Madness and the night wouldn't let her find his lights after, and his song would be unrecognizable. No red wine, but she liked him, and she tried to splash him again, just to see him sputter again.
"Those weren't fun, were they?" Drinking, smoking. "I know someone who likes to smoke very much, but I don't." Candor spoken without veil of hysteria, and she regarded the island as she made the thoughtless comment. "I think it could be done too. I wanted to. Can we try? I promise not to let you drown." She was certain that she could keep him from being dragged under. "We can avoid the ship. I can see it, even if you can't," she told him. And, impatient little fool with rainbows in her head, she dove without warning. She was fast, but her limbs were long, and the water offered opposition. She swam low, belly nearly against silt, and she swam.