Piper is a sleeper in more ways than one. Maybe if she had an eye patch or a wooden leg you’d see the pirate coming before she runs you through. There are some small glimpses of the building storm in the nose ring and tattoos, but most don’t see that right brain churning until the sky opens up and there’s a new fish on the wall.
Two days in she was pulsing like a sponge, soaking everything in, purifying it, categorizing it and spitting it out in screaming wild abstract acrylic. But that’s not where it ends. Stroll down the beach, grab some sea beans, a pumice stone, some coral fragments and a conch shell and spin around twice. Throw them over your shoulder and you might catch her smile before she bolts up the mangrove roots and into the canopy. That’s the passion for Marine Science coursing through her veins.
There’s a mellowness to Piper that projects a sense of self—a coolness despite being totally out of her element and tossed into the permit-ramped skill set having never even climbed the salted learning curve. But there’s a freedom in her eyes and a second haul to her cast, and when that first school of ghosts slide up, everyone knows there’s some fish that are going to have their asses handed to them. Not bad for a freshie.