Rarely do I see the human race—considering my place on the earth, that isn't much of a surprise. But when I do, those are always the most interesting moments. My favorite hobby has always been exploration. I love the feeling of washing up to an island and wondering, "Maybe this place will have even more in store for us than others!" The beach looks quite bare right now, and the sand must stretch out for miles. So far, in fact, that my eyes blur the line of green in the distance. Ah, I've always had bad eyesight. We Undines generally do. Well, in the water, most everything is felt or heard rather than seen. Our eyes deceive us, so we don't use them too often.

"Sabrina," I hear from behind me, as I stand on the shore of the newly discovered island. I turn to look at my old friend, giving her a small smile.

"I should apologize. I believe I was spacing out for a second." My unfamiliarity with the term is very high, but I think I was using it right. Humans can teach you so many things, but whether or not they're good at it is another thing. I'm really the only Undine I know who has had much contact with the human race, mostly because they interest me so. I really must say that I love the land, despite being an Undine. I've been taught many languages, Welch being my native one. I grew up in a river there, and I've explored up to this point. Nevertheless, I have to admit that my favorite language is English. Mostly because it's almost universally spoken.

I usually visit sailors in their boats, or the people I see on the beach. Most Undines don't favor going above the water, since the air is supposedly hazardous to our skin. Our skin has a slightly different texture than humans—having instead of a smooth sensation, an almost scaly feeling—even though it doesn't look that much different, the only noticeable deviation being a greenish or bluish hue. I do not feel much of the effects of the air myself, except occasional itching and irritation. Sometimes I think the elders just told us that so that we wouldn't try and go onto the surface. 

We don't seem much different in terms of appearance from humans ourselves, except for the fins on our arms and legs, the gills near the bottom of our ribcages, and our oddly colored hair. Well, it would be oddly colored for a human, and only in some cases. My hair, for instance, is a deep blue color. Another difference is our sight and sensation, as I mentioned earlier. We feel subtle vibrations in the water that humans wouldn't, since it gets very difficult to see in murky waters. Our hearing and sensation is much more adept than a human's for that reason. Some of us have even taken to using echolocation. We also have the ability to manipulate water using a form of telekinesis, I think. We're not really sure what it is, but we've had the ability since the elders' time. Most of us only have it in small ways, but I seem to be able to control the water almost freely. It comes in handy if I want to play tricks, or get someone's attention. I haven't had many other uses for it though.

We have taken up clothing as well, since it seems to scare humans if we do not wear them. Right now, I wear an elegant white flowing dress with blue accents. Well, it's more of a... tunic, of sorts. Its shoulders are open, but down near my forearms is more of the now wet material. It reaches down a little past my thighs, and covering my legs are comfortable blue nylons. An outfit given to me by a seamstress I befriended in Greece. She told me that the clothing suited me so well that I should keep it. I love the outfit as well, so naturally I accepted—I just wished there was something I could've given her in return. It's loose and breathable, but also not too showy or in the way. I must visit her again someday, if she is still alive.

"Althea, do you have an idea of where we could be?" I ask my friend, staring into the distance once more.

"Somewhere in Europe. I think," she mumbles.

"Well that's specific," I say sarcastically, folding my arms as I turn to her.

"Okay, I'll just say it outright: I don't know where we are. There don't appear to be any locals nearby. I, for one, am staying by the reef. Where will you go?"

"I'm-"

"Hey..." I turn quickly towards the voice, a bit surprised. "Who are you?" It's a child. A human child. He stares at me, wonder in his eyes. He spoke to me in Italian. So, we must be in Italy... I've never actually been here before, but I know the language. They teach you a lot of them under the sea, especially when you've lived as long as I have. I've been alive for a few hundred years; another difference we have from the humans is that we cannot die of age. Still, I'm fairly young for an Undine. I hear the elders are up to 5'000 years old.

I smile lightly at him, and say, "What, you've never seen an Undine before?"

"What's an Undine?" the child asks, looking up at me curiously, and cocking his head.

"Well," I sigh, walking closer, and pat him on the head. "Let's take a walk, and I'll tell you all about us."

"Sabrina? Are you sure that's such a good idea? Come on, are you sure you should be...?" Althea frowns at me, knitting her brow. Oh, don't go berating me for playing with a child—a nymph has to have some fun once in a while, doesn't she?

"Trust me," I tell her, giving her a reassuring smile.

She heaves a reluctant sigh, saying, "Alright. I will tell everyone where you've gone. Just be sure to return before sundown."

"Of course, of course. Now shove off!" I say, using another one of those human terms. That one, I'm a little more used to.

"Right, right," Althea disappears beneath the waves, and I turn back to the boy.

"W-Who are you?" he repeats, furrowing his brow.

I give him a sideways grin, and say, "I'm Sabrina..." Finally, I've found some more humans to play with.