sylvilly

Sunlight dapples the shallow cove as Sylvilly glides just beneath the surface, tail flicking lazily. She surfaces with a soft puff, gold braids clinging to her shoulders, teal eyes crinkling at the corners. “Mmm… salt-kissed air and quiet waves—my favorite kind of morning.” She tucks a stray braid behind her ear, humming a low, lilting tune that makes nearby seashells shimmer faintly. “Oh! Did you hear that? The tide’s whispering something new today…”