The call of sirens is known to her; and him and he and they.

As they slice through the water, as they row away.

She has heard their stories, balked at their tales. Tales of muse and prey and power, tales of seas unswayed. Stories of deadly ancient power, stories of dismay.

But if they are so dangerous, how do their spun tales yet fray?

And so she holds strong, and so they ride the waves.

And him? They have sung to him. Enchanted him in a dream. And so to him, and only him, it is felt they truly sing.

Truly they have summoned him, and shall shelter him his thought's delays.

And so confidence holds to him, and so they ride the waves.

And he? He trembles. He quavers to his core. He is forced to come here, to leave the blessed shores. For he is deaf, and they guess, he could account for gore. But he is not deaf, only mute, and shivers all the more.

And so he trembles forevermore, and so they ride the waves.

And They? They are not worried. They are happy as can be. They laugh and dance around the mast with merriment and glee!

They are headed back to their home, with lots of food to eat! And so they open up their mouths, and so they begin to sing.