Snippet #2445718

((Sorry all, roleplay gateway was acting weird)
Aca:
I walk out the door while it's still dark. My pack is on my shoulder with my not so carefully folded dress (made of my baby scales, which were kind-of reddish) and heeled boots. I hate the dress. It was fine with sleeves, but my little sister Marlie decided that it wasn't "girly enough" and my mom got rid of the sleeves. Now I have to rely on being a girl to wear the dress. Oh well. I am dressed in a t-shirt and jeans now. I run down to the river and hop in. I begin to swim almost immediately. I reach the meeting point a few minutes early and I take a deep breath. I'm going to see Marqun again. I need to seem calm, reserved....never mind. This fascination with boys is insane! I never cared before, what makes now so different? It didn't matter before, but now it does. I suppose it's "growing up". "Stupid hormones," I mutter, then look around. I hope no one heard me. I look and I see a flash of red on a ridge. Is it a herring? Yes it is. I consider attacking, but why? They could just be bathing or swimming for fun. I quickly flash them a message in the secret herring language. If they are a spy they would understand I said "I'm watching you." If not, they'd just see my fingers wagging, which is all the language looks like to the untrained eye. I am quite skilled in the language because my fingers are nimble. Most crocs-and other animals for that matter- haven't got a hope. Marqun and Michael have arrived and we exchange glances. I say "Red herring, left ridge" and they nod. If we are aware, we won't divulge anything important. Not that we do anyway, but still. We keep swimming until we reach a waterfall out of croc territory where noise is easily concealed. It means we can't be heard, but it also means we can't hear others. Oh well, every great strategy has a weakness, and that is our current one. Lesson number one of my gang: Weakness and fear are illusions. Never have the same weakness or fear twice, lest they become reality. That is our law, that is out gang, that is our life. No mistakes, no words, only survival. Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn't rather be a herring.
((P.S. I got the language from a book. The nation that has a major industry of spying has a secret finger language, that only a few out of the country know. Shh.......))