Ankyra Sound underneath the palm trees you can leave your worries

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"I'm well aware," came her huffy response, followed by the youth blowing air through her nostrils so as to rid them of the intrusive substance. Had she'd known this would've been the outcome of her galloping across the sand, she would've never tried to get his attention in the first place. Or even chase after him in the first place for that matter. Her cheeks now burned with a mixture of hot frustration and humiliation, only made worse by his calm suggestion to go wash off in the ocean. How silly and stupid she must look to him! Some strange girl first bathing in freezing cold water only to step back onto shore and get dirty again, then go running through the sand and get even more filthy by flying face-first into it, carrying all the grace of a blind, two-legged squirrel! 

Clearly, her chance at a respectable and dignified first impression was lost, so with that in mind, she just gave a long, exasperated sigh and turned herself around, trudging back towards the dark, aquamarine waters with a defeated pout. The waters seemed colder upon the second entry, sending an immediate chill down her spine that triggered a tremlbe in her lips and legs once more, but she ignored it. Maybe it was freezing, but the cold seemed to help calm her ashamed nerves, washing away the humilation like it washed away the sand. Still, even after most of the substance had been cleared from body and the burning feeling had mostly subsided, her irritation was not entirely gone. Was she irritated that she made a fool of herself? Irritated that she couldn't control the world around her like she wanted to? Irritated that she didn't get her way? Who know's. Whatever the case may be, she figured, for all this trouble (a majority of which was mostly just in her head), she was at least getting his name, if nothing else.

She padded back onto the shore now, pausing on the wet, well-packed sand that did not cling to her body so as to shake herself off and get a little drier before walking onto the sand that would cling to her body. Then, she willed herself to drip dry a little before moving forward, and while she waited, she figured now would be the time to throw her inquiry at him. Despite everything, she still fixed him with an intense glare and held herself in a pompous manner, like none of that had even happened.

"Do you have a name, or shall I just refer to you as 'Sand Boy'?" 

The name seemed fitting, since he clearly knew more about the properties of sand than she did, and their encounter had entirely revolved around the pesky substance. 'Course, by that notion, she might as well be Sand Girl.
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