11/6/2025, 9:38 PM
Hey. She sounded like she was speaking through gravel, voice hoarse from disuse. Scars marred her cheek and foreleg, and no other scents marked her pelt. What was this, then, the fates sending him another little lost orphan to use her teeth and tears to crack open his shell?
Too little too late, Trygve thought - Yakone seemed to have reached in and scraped out whatever pearl had formed within him. He didn't really want it back, necessarily - just wanted....wanted to know it hadn't been him. That it had been her muradoii duties, or her own doubts, or some other whimsy that had gotten him discarded like so many licked-clean clam shells. He wanted to know she'd take care of herself, that the fragility in the weapon of a girl he'd seen on the beach in the misty-eyed dawn would survive a world he knew wouldn't pull its punches.
How....pathetic, a sentiment. His pride seethed at the sting of it.
I was...wondering if you might've seen somebody.He did not have much hope she'd seen Yakone, let alone anyone, for a while now.
um...She has red eyes, goes by Yakone. Silver fur, with some darker markings.He paused, gaze flickering over the other girl.
She wears a raven feather, too.
![[Image: trygve-chirpeax.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/vBkzDQZV/trygve-chirpeax.png)
