Totoka River water will do when there's no rum

He looked up, his last mouthful of water freely draining between his fangs and onto the sands below. He was not alone; it seemed another male had come to the river for a drink, keeping a buffer between them. Ferahgo sniffed. Nope. Not a male at all. His muzzle wrinkled. How unfortunate for this one to look so thick and... well. He had no personal use such masculine angles, but! He was a Captain adrift, his crew few, and what few he had would need something to squabble over.

"Ahoy," he called out with an upward tip of his muzzle. "Who are ye and what can ye be tellin' me 'bout these shores?"