( Throwing caution to the wind only really works when you have caution to begin with. Clary Fray, fighter of men and doer of dares certainly does not, and so when she hears about the glen she can't resist finding her way to it. She's glad that she does, because it's actually beautiful, dapped sunlight, the softest of breezes rustling through the trees, the sound of lapping water. It makes her heart ache and her soul soar, fingers itching for a pencil. She should have brought her sketchbook.
But then maybe she wouldn't have found it in her to explore quite some much.
The pool of water glitters prettily when she leans over the stones, and while she can't see to the bottom, it's still calm. Without thinking about it, she's taking her boots off, her socks, stripping down to just a vest and her underwear. She's still mostly covered, and besides, it's not like Cadelle ever worries about indecent exposure. Dropping her stele on her little pile of belongings, Clary balances on the smooth rock and then dives, splashing into the water with pure excitement. She doesn't try to reach the bottom, instead she kicks her feet and drifts along the surface, red hair curling into tendrils, fabric vaguely see-through. It's peaceful though, worry leaving her in waves as she lets the sun warm off the droplets of water from her freckled skin.
Clary spends a long time just gently floating, but eventually her curiosity pulls her along to the chest. She sits on the rocks before it so that she can push the lid free with ease - thank you, Shadowhunter strength. It's not something she recognises, but it feels magical anyway, the stuff of fairytales and all she can think is how the world holds so much beauty in it, how she'd like to spend more time here --.
It happens instantaneously, Clary aware of a shift in the air, a stirring under her skin. Her scream is not quite in line with the tone of the glen, but hopefully she can be forgiven her sudden horror. Because where her legs had been drying moments ago, now there is simply a tail of glittering green and blue, fins flapping irritably. It's a tail. It's her tail. And also, she's naked from the waist up, because seashell bras have to be found, apparently. At least her hair does most of the covering. ) What the fuck! ( Wrapping her arms around herself, flushing brightly, Clary does not panic. She does not. )
clary fray | open.