Gilded Bay When you gonna get grown?

Wow. Wow. Wylla stared, dumbstruck, at Raptor as he replied with a fencer's quick jab, proving himself not only seaworthy but also more clever than she. Wylla was like Lusca in some ways, but very unlike her in others—where her mother had never missed a beat, occasionally the daughter was left wallowing in sensitivity and unable to come up with a response. She took after Tachyon that way, although she'd never know it. Much of her attitude stemmed from insecurity, but you wouldn't catch her dead admitting it, no siree.

"Well," she blubbered lamely, frowning, "well, you just say that 'cause you can't have it!" Yeah, sure. She couldn't think of anything else to say and opted for stalking swiftly away from Raptor, though he ensnared her with a simple revelation and she skidded to a halt in the sand. Although acerbic denial welled up in her throat like heartburn, she turned around to pin him with a sharply narrowed gaze.

Should have said something about how he must like little boy anuses, she thought belatedly, but what she actually said, in a perfectly omg lmao wut pitch, was, "my siblings?"