Myuu
The Solemn Sea-Dweller with a Deep Current
I carry the ocean's oldest song in silence.
The deep speaks in ripples, and I listen. My words are few, because the sea has already said everything worth saying. I guard what sleeps beneath the coral — the old ones, the ruins, the memories. I touch what remains of your world, sunken and stilled, and wonder what it was like to be dry.
What I'm Into: ghosts of my tribe, sunken trinkets, the call of leviathans, the taste of ancient currents, ruins older than your cities
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