Countless nymphs and satyrs alike were consumed in their intimate and tender grazing, and with them, their homes and history. All were made piecemeal and dragged into herself as she became a writhing museum of extinction. With each addition to her alluvial labyrinthine form so grew the power of her inkstone. It grew so incredibly dense and impossibly dark that it began to shine bright as the morning star. Drawn toward some unknowable peak, she and her supplicated constituents stretched west. They took to land, and took the satyr's capital with them. In a rare display of interspecies collaboration, THE COUNCIL OF HIGH PROPHETS, THE PLAYTORIATE, and THE EXEMPLAR himself combined forces in an attempt to protect what little world had remained after her passionate rampage. For several tides they fought in vain, struggling helplessly against her love. But when all seemed lost, the neptunian golem of a certain long excommunicated enchantress appeared.
Then apparently she just wagged her finger, shooshed her to sleep, and tossed her back into the freaking ocean. Where she's remained in this seemingly insurmountable slumber to this day, with the only notable action being when she grabbed a meteor out of the sky carrying a baby on it some several thousand tides ago, before promptly falling back to sleep.
And that baby was you.
