Mayard extended his left hand and suggested, “Put these in your ears.”
Rhiann saw the wriggling bugs in his uncle’s hands and muttered, “Yuck! Earplugs! Must we?”
“Yes, you’ll understand,” Mayard uttered.
A wonderfully melodic feminine voice added, “They won’t harm you, Rhiann, and neither will I.”
A feminine person joined them. The lovely longhaired creature was so stunning that he had to catch his breath. She overwhelmed all his senses with her looks, voice, and pheromones. Long reddish-orange locks flowed down her neck and crossed over to the front of her chest, falling far below her curvaceous perfect breasts. There was radiance to each beautiful hair, as though every strand lived separately. Her voice was beyond description. His mother’s words had always soothed the pangs of scrapes and abrasions, which he had suffered during his play. But what he heard now was beyond the comfort of Caye’s most tender words. The youth would amble off a cliff should she request it. Her beauty differed from his mother. She had…soft feathered wings had sprouted naturally from the small of her back. Her wings extended almost involuntarily, and a soft plushy tail swished gently behind her as she talked. Rhiann felt unfamiliar stirrings in his essence. A Siren… his first encounter with the Old Ones.
benjamintowe 