"Hello," she says, then, obligingly, as she settles on a rock near the bank; it's funny how often people here manage to be more startled by her breasts than the fact she's got a tail (with what looks like an odd dark smudge on one side, where her thigh would otherwise be) and Rhade is immediately rated slightly above them for not appearing to suffer the same crippling fear of nudity.

There is a method to her madness, this evening, but it's not something she feels an obligation to interrogate him about so abruptly-- in fact, his query may lead perfectly naturally into what she wants to discuss. So she says, easy as you please, "A naiad. River-maiden. A kind of faerie, like a siren, but not for the sea."

A beat.

"That's mermaids." There's a difference.