[Row, row, row your boat... Elma wonders, as she lets her body guide the strokes of the oars, how a real priestess would actually accomplish this. The task is more demanding than it sounds, after all, and a priestess wouldn't really have much physical strength to accomplish it with, would she? But it's a story, she supposes, and such details don't count.]
[Except to her, but luckily she can handle this.]
[As the shadows fall over her and her eyes slowly adjust to the dim cove where she ought to be, Elma pulls the oars in, then scoops up the rock she'd set in the bottom of the boat. A quick flick of her wrist and over it goes, sinking down into the depths to disturb the sea witch and grab her attention.]
no subject
[Except to her, but luckily she can handle this.]
[As the shadows fall over her and her eyes slowly adjust to the dim cove where she ought to be, Elma pulls the oars in, then scoops up the rock she'd set in the bottom of the boat. A quick flick of her wrist and over it goes, sinking down into the depths to disturb the sea witch and grab her attention.]