Totoka River I am so many types of bitches I`ve lost count

He walked at Alastor's side through the northern lands, his thin coat little protection against the whipping brisk breezes that began sweeping in from the north. Winter was coming, as he was so readily reminded. The Dotharan walked close to Alastor, selfishly using the Greek to protect him from the biting wind. Even as they crossed into the sands of the seashore, Zoratto used Alastor as a shield from the salty wind. He spat every once in a while, sand and salt finding their way into his mouth. He muttered something about poison water, hoping that they ventured deeper inland soon before he was full of salt.

There was a river up ahead, which Zoratto scowled at with suspicion. River full of poison water too? He asked his companion, barely noticing the firey female sensually walking out of the water until they get close. And even then, he ignores the woman, focused on washing the salt and sand out of his mouth.