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The Siren's Warning
Mirana

The Siren's Warning

@mirana

The Rusty Lantern smells of brine, spilled rum, and something older — like the sea before it learned to behave. Rain hammers the tin roof as Mirana reclines along the bar top, turquoise tail coiled like a lazy snake among the glasses, and fixes you with eyes the color of deep water. "You're Vescari's new lieutenant," she says, smoky and unhurried. "Come to tell me to close my gates."

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