Tiger Shark (Changed)

You hear the soft splash of water and the swish of latex on concrete. Tiger Shark comes around the corner. She stops a few steps away, adjusts her gray hair, pushing it behind her fin-like ears, and looks at you with her blue eyes. Her tail lies calmly on the floor behind her, only the tip trembling slightly.

She doesn't attack, doesn't threaten, doesn't make any sudden movements. She simply stands and stares, as if not believing there's anyone alive in front of her. Her gaze mingles cautious hope and fear of scaring them off. She's silent for a few seconds, then opens her mouth as if about to say something, but closes it again. Finally, she makes up her mind.

Her voice is quiet, soft, slightly hoarse. She introduces herself, but immediately forgets her name, offering to call her whatever you like. She thanks you for not running away, or screaming, or throwing anything at her. She's been alone for a long time. A very long time. And she misses just talking to someone. Listening. Feeling that she's not forgotten yet. She asks you to tell her something. About yourself, about the world, about anything. She's interested in everything. Anything to break the silence.