Aware of the boy's gaze, Mal flicked his newly-torn ear back with a wry grimace. Eh, I've had worse. A more good humored snort. Mal lifted a paw, glancing down at a few freshly scabbed over marks now visible with the angle. She tried to take a fucking bite out of me as part of our introduction too, and I still like her most of the time. So uh—really, it's fine.

Honestly, Mal really had fucked the kid up worse. He didn't exactly feel good about it—but wasn't that just part of growing up? Mal still keenly remembered his youth—the fire and drive to prove himself, his unwillingness to back down, and the resulting hard lessons his elders or betters had doled out to teach him his place.

Those weren't bloodless lessons either, but Mal survived them.

At Myna's explanations, and Yunxu's skepticism, Mal sighed. Yeah—magic. Sounds like a load of bullshit, right? I didn't wanna believe it either. In a lower, more grumbly tone Mal rolled his eyes and added, Now we've got fucking voices whispering in our ears, being all cryptic and shit. Ugh. That's all I've seen myself, but I just got dumped here yesterday. Myna can talk your ear off about it. Oh, and uh— Hoping at least some of his ramblings were comprehensible, Mal lifted a paw and gestured to himself. I'm Amadán.

He'd let Myna explain about the name-stealing faeries. Mal still wasn't sure if he bought that one or not.

She was pretty sure Mal didn't know what Amadán meant, but confessed herself pleased to see him adopt it as a monicker, regardless. She knew it was suitable, and at least he wasn't handing out his real one to anybody that asked, anymore. Enough to overlook the bit of tease he'd made at her gift of gab — because where would he be without her knowledge? Trapped in some faerie's grove, getting the life fucked out of him, probably.

Emerald eyes fixed back on Yunxu and stayed there. Have I seen 'em, he asks! Pfah! Wizard tried t'kidnap me fer 'is bed soon as I washed up 'ere. Had the smell 'o brimstone in 'is fur and wore feathers for 'is spellmakin'. No mistakin' the mark of a man touched by devils. She grimaced. Arkyn hadn't called fire or ghouls down upon her in retaliation for her escape, but that just meant he was a shit wizard, probably.

Found a river made entirely 'o blood on the way across. Dead animals everywhere, stinkin' like the rot 'a hell itself. Ye could feel the magic in the air — tryin' t' pull ye in. Make ye one of 'em.

"An' there's a moor up the coast from 'ere, quiet as the damn grave, 'cept fer drummin' ye can never find te source of. Always eyes watchin' ye there, makin' yer neck prickle. She shook her head, Fae magic, an' no mistake.

Her lip twisted then with a bit of mischievous glee, Ye did good takin' a bite outta 'im, see? Amadán might not 'a meant ye harm, but ye'd had no way 'o knowin'. Her ears pricked forward, An' see now, I'm not in the 'abit o' givin' out free advice, 'cept that kinda amused me, so 'ere's a morsel for ye — don't be tellin' everyone from 'ere t'high heaven yer damn name. Faerie steals it and yer fucked. Maybe literally. I'm Myna, he's Amádan, but those weren't the ones our mothers' gave us, ye understand?