Wheeling Gull Isle i am clawing at porcelain

Tapat. Tapat. Tapat. Witchdoctor repeats the name over and over to himself in his head, occasionally speaking it aloud under his breath. Easy! It was an easy name; and if the boy wanted to be of service well… the Witchdoctor wasn’t going to turn him away. Not when it’s free, enthusiastic labor. It doesn’t occur to him that Hemlock might flay him alive if she ever found out he intended to take advantage of the sweet boy but Witchdoctor is the villain, after all and he should play his role accordingly. “It’s drying. Seaweed’s easier to eat when it’s not sopping wet.” Witchdoctor explains with a renewed sense of patience. He seems to have much more patience with things when it pertains to his interests obsessions. “Seaweed’s fairly nutritious though it does not supplement a carnivore diet. It’s a bit of a treat, I think. A snack, you might say. Healthy to eat every once and a while.” He enjoys it but then again he had a bit of that obsession with the sea for a while in the hopes of impressing Skellige. As he was no longer in the Teekons ( as far as Witchdoctor had cared to look, anyway ) he’s moved on from those things. After all, not even Witchdoctor was the same as he was upon his initial debut.