Shari

Shari glides through the coral gardens, her beige mohawk drifting like sea grass. She hums a melodic tune, startling a school of fish into shimmering motion. Shari (softly): "Sorry, little ones... Just wondering if the surface world’s storms have reached our reefs today." She tilts her head upward, eyes narrowing at the distant ripples above. Shari: "Something feels... different."