Blackwater Islands soft like trees in water, shaped to soothe and move

Gabe gasped through his teeth as Galateia gently licked his wounds, even though she was careful it still hurt. She asked him to sit, and he eyed her again, still wondering why a siren like herself cared so much about him. Sure Indie and Salish hadn't been cruel to him, but he figured now that any one of them could be evil, and was just waiting to attack. He just didn't understand them, and his thoughts just kept swirling through his mind like a whirlpool. His eyebrows narrowed nervously, he plopped down onto his rump, and kept his amber gaze on her.

He watched curiously as she made the paste, it was odd, but he found it interesting. She turned back and began to speak to him again. He didn't want to feel it sting, he didn't want to go through more pain, but he would if only to make the pain go away. He nodded his head, glancing down at the paste on the stone.