Stavanger Bay Gotta sad life, sad life; go to fuckin' hell

sandpiper remained on the dune as the two below conversed. the wind was only partially in her favor - she could make out the familiar murmur of her brother's accent, but most of what the female said was unintelligible due to the distance. try as she might to strain her ears forward, it did nothing to assist her eavesdropping endeavor. she considered approaching, but quickly ruled against it. on principle, sandpiper preferred not interacting with anyone -- so she kept to her position. there was something to be said about making smokestep do all the work anyway -- that way sandpiper could sit back and devote time to what really mattered -- tormenting the natives.