EXTERIOR- The beach, deep into the wilds, far west of Triangle Valley. A short way north of the oceanic port where adventurous sailors drop their spoils, to be shipped to Saustis.

  The beach is poputed exclusively by muscur, tall, well-fed, well-sculpted and well-armed men and women, wearing either barely-not-indecent-exposure-type swimsuits or full sets of glistening armor, and nothing between those two things. Save for maybe a small handful wearing robes or something.

  PRESENT - THE GIRL (Wearing a grey freshly bloodstained sweater, and her maroon ball cap. No armor. YES shorts, because beach.) THE BOY (Shirtless, with flip-flops and incredibly short trunks that the girl had ying around, for whatever reason.)

  TIME - Well into the afternoon, but nowhere near early evening. The sun shines brilliantly upon the beach-goers.

  "leering?" The boy repeated, tilting his head, the retive innocence of this action suddenly much higher.

  "Yes. Leering." It appeared that the girl was quite fond of that word. "Leering. Watch me, Bug, I'm really good at this. It's one of my special skills."

  The boy started at the girl's face with heavy intent, as instructed.

  The girl leered out toward the chilly ocean and the expanse of artificially warmed sand beneath the cool autumn windy-breeze.

  Her gaze fell first upon the scarcely-cd men and women- The sunbathers, the pyers, the frollickers, the flirters, the swimmers, all were caught by her terrible sight.

  Her piercing, burning gaze digging deeply into every pore, every exposed inch- And, more importantly, every inch that wasn't. There was a quiet, dark intensity behind her eyes as they seemed to undress, very slowly, each and every inch of every individual she gazed at.

  But that isn't to say that those who remained in armor were spared of her perverse stare. No, it appeared as though the ck of exposure only excited her all the more, twisted imagination perverting an otherwise practical and safe decision into something altogether more *wrong*.

  She stared at the beach-goers not as though they were people, but as though they were art. Not in the sense that there was any beauty about it, no she stared at them as though they were objects that were sculpted solely for her to gaze at, and nothing more.

  Those unfortunate enough to catch her notice could feel the weight of her gaze within moments.

  Some of the adventurers were just as the girl had said they were, caring not who saw them or why they looked. This handful didn't bat so much as an eye.

  Others shivered, stopped dead in their frollicking tracks, and turned, usually slowly, uncomfortably, to look at her. All with these small little looks- Fear, disgust, anger, all sorts of things.

  But in the end, that's all they did. Just gnced and looked away, and tried to push it to the back of their minds. Though the weight of her gaze wasn't something that could be brushed off so easily, and many would remember it as one of many stains on this terrible, terrible day.

  Some had every intention of putting a stop to her antics, although most were deterred by the considerable age difference. To intervene would mean to admit to being intimidated by a young girl, and pride would not allow that, not in front of all their peers.

  And as for the shameless ones among them, those entirely willing to throw come to blows with the smallest of children if it suited their fancy, were deterred by the fact that intervention would momentarily distract them from their own lecherous activities with their peers.

  Thus, invariably, the girl was left alone. Left to leer, left to stare, left to substantially decrease the general happiness of all she could see.

  The girl could do noting but let out a blissful sigh.

  "I fricken love beach day." A gentle smile of sheer etion spread across her face.