Wheeling Gull Isle young blood, gotta pull the trigger

Akantha is a literal crab. Clack-clack. (sorry for her 'tude!)

The more he hesitated and drew out the moment, the more she wanted to lay into them both. But she knew better. To pick and choose battles was something she didn't want to take for granted if the moment offered it. So she remained steadfast, but motionless, eyeing them both with a cutting glare. 

When he glances toward the forest, he blood runs hot, and she draws her teeth back to let loose a gutteral snarl. She didn't like his curiousity; like a fox eyeing up a nest full of chicks. "No. Yes. A week." She answers in a clipped staccato. "My turn: who are you?"