She stepped forward, boots of braided kelp and ancient barnacle forming a whispering contact with the rock. The mane unfurled, strands lifting as if tasting the salt-laced air. Photophores winked awake in a slow, deliberate tide: cerulean, then green, then a scatter of warm amber across the pearl tips. With each color shift, the tide responded—a ripple rolling back from the shore as if obeying some ancestral cadence.