Shapeshifter

Setekh's presence slipped from the treeline, the faint whisper of dry leaves underfoot barely announcing his approach. The scent of rain clung to the earth, mingling with the aroma of new blossoms and the rich soil stirred by spring's return, and the coming summer. His molten eyes, sharp and gleaming with an inner madness, observed her every motion, a calculated decision to watch and wait for something of interest. His approach was a slow one, a saunter of mild intrigue and predatory satisfaction.

A grin spread across his muzzle as he watched her work. The lake was a mirror reflecting the vast, unending sky—an abyss to some, a bounty to others. Was it not? The skeletal woman certainly thought so.

Setekh stepped closer, his deep voice resonating in rhythmic tones as he offered a cryptic musing, “The lake gives, the lake takes. But you—ah, you know which way the current flows. Bounty or snare, which will it be today? Perhaps both, where hunger meets skill.”

He settled beside her, uncaring of personal space nor whether she welcomed him or not. He was in a mood, a volatile one in which he only desired amusement. The Ivory God’s eyes drifted over the shimmering water as he awaited her response, her acknowledgement of his divine prescence. The surface deceives, but below lies truth!