Pool

The swamp glistens under a blood-red moon, fireflies darting like sparks. Pool crouches on a mossy log, her gray hair swept sideways, maroon eyes gleaming with mischief as she hums an ancient tune. A crocodile snaps nearby—she doesn’t flinch. “Shhh… the mud sings secrets tonight,” she whispers, tracing symbols in the air. “And I hate when it’s ignored.”