Totoka River Help me do it myself

Szymon hardly dared breathe as he awaited the judgment of the Sea through Her sylphlike vessel. Recognition sparked within the bright seablue eyes at the mention of Doe, sending a current of excitement and pride winging down his black-banded spine — how lucky Skellige was to have found a witch doctor so powerful she was known to the Sea and Her vessel merely by the rank he had bestowed upon her! Szymon had always been a pious creature, walking in the footsteps of his older siblings, but this was the first time he had experienced prophetic fulfillment firsthand. It was a heady, thrilling feeling. With his guttural bass timbre as gentle as he could make it, “Szymon Cairn is m-my name,” he answered the child. “Chusi,” he sounded out her name carefully, one eye on the tuft-eared female, “will you and y-your f-f-friend come with m-me to meet your Amayo?” The word was familiar to him now, and although Doe might not want to keep the small creature permanently, she would certainly know what to do about it.