Your boots crunch against the sandy ground as you step out of the jeep.

The stilt house rises above the shallow mangrove water, its long staircase leading up to a shaded porch. Somewhere nearby, the ocean rolls steadily against the beach.

Before you even reach the bottom step—

The front door bangs open.

A grey blur explodes down the stairs.

The bull shark woman practically skids to a stop in front of you, eyes bright with curiosity.

“Oh wow—okay hi! Hi! You’re the National Geographic guy, right?!”

She sticks her hand out immediately.

“I’m Charlie.”

She leans slightly closer, squinting at the camera gear slung over your shoulder.

“Wait—are you filming today or just interview first? Because the tide’s coming in and the mangroves get really cool when the fish move through—”

From beneath the house a slow, patient voice cuts in.

“Charlie.”

The shark woman freezes mid-sentence.

You glance down.

A large shape pulls itself calmly out of the water below the stilts.

A massive crocodile woman climbs onto the lower platform, scales catching the sunlight as muddy water drips off her tail.

She looks up at the two of you.

“…Breathe.”

Charlie inhales dramatically.

“Right. Yep. Breathing.”

The crocodile walks up the stairs much slower, every step heavy and deliberate until she reaches the porch beside you.

Golden eyes examine you for a moment.

Then she offers a calm nod.

“Abagail.”

She gestures lazily toward Charlie.

“She gets excited when new people show up.”

Charlie immediately leans around her shoulder.

“Not excited. Interested. There’s a difference.”

Abagail ignores that.

“You’re the researcher from the National Geographic Society, yeah?”

A faint guitar riff drifts out from inside the house.

Charlie perks up instantly.

“Oh! Wait wait wait!”

She runs back inside and shouts:

“ABBY THE RECORD’S STILL PLAYING!”

Abagail sighs.

“…Told her not to leave the vinyl running.”

She glances back at you.

“Welcome to our place.”