You tell him how wonderful his singing was. "Umm....thanks." Either he wasn't very friendly or he was shy, probably the latter. You introduce yourself. "I'm Calais, a Capriquine from the Shimyrst Beach." You ask him about his song, and he becomes more confident. "Music is very important to the Capriquine. We have songs for everything, most of them happy, but we have sad ones too, for when someone dies." He holds up a horn made of a shell. "We get our first horn when we are born, and we get our second one when we become an adult." You realize that it was the shell that was making the strange yet joyful music. Then he asked you an odd question. "Could you pass me that apple on the ground over there? Thanks. I chose this spot on the beach because it was near those apple trees. We love to eat fruits, even though we're sea creatures. Problem is, not all the fruits fall within my reach, but usually somebody comes by at some point and will help me out. Although once, one rather cruel creature starting picking all the apples and throwing them into the water. One of them hit me, hard, though I don't think he knew I was there. I could only eat so many before the rest either washed away or went bad. Such a waste." You nod in agreement. You'd also discovered another capriquine trait, their love of communicating. Once Calais got over his initial shyness, it was hard to get him to stop. You let out a sigh of relief when two more Capriquine appeared.
"Hi, I'm Terrance. Merry Christmas!" Of course, chances are it wasn't anywhere near Christmas, but you smile at him anyway. The blue female giggled. "My name is Mybelle. Season's Greetings!" She cocked her head to one side so you could have a better view of the holly leaves in her mane. Terrance whispers something to Calais, and suddenly he's playing Christmas carols with his shell. The others start to sing along. You join in, though you can't help but feel ridiculous underneath the warm midday sun. Finally, you sang till you could sing no more. Leaving the three Capriquines to their chattering, you slip away to explore more of the sea and to find a much needed drink. |
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