“I hadn’t expected to see such a shrine in your city,” I said.
Her face darkened. “The shrine belongs here. The city does not.”
“I don’t know that I follow.”
“Our people are nomads. We must travel to stay alive. Our leader”--she practically spat the word--”has broken from this tradition to live as the dryponies do. To stay in one place, no longer a predator but a pile of barnacles clinging to a rock.”
“But the shrine has always been here?”
She glanced over to the floating stone. “This has long been a place of rest and safety.”
“Because of the stone?” I blinked. “Of course. It must be what sustains the pocket of air down here.”
She ignored me, resuming her pacing around the stone as her voice grew more aggrieved. “But this place is safe no longer. The waves have been cold of late. A new current flows from the deep. Blackfin has upset the balance, and he will pay for this transgression. I pray that our people will not all suffer for his mistake.”
“Your words are ominous,“ I said. "Is that prophecy or simply ill feeling?"
She remained silent, circling the stone with her head bowed low.
“Can you tell me about your faith?” I inquired...
“What is this stone?” I asked…
“I must be going,” I explained...