The Heartwood i'm a ghost of you, you're a ghost of me

The explanation that followed was one that did not entirely shock the titan. The sea disliked many things that were sent to it; the pale boy was lucky that he only had his tongue stolen from him instead of his life. That was of very little interest to the inkhound, as he had lived his entire life devoted to the ocean and had never known it to treat him as cruelly as it did others. It wasn't even that he was fortunate; he was intended to be that close with the waters. Almost immediately, he could tell that this tattered and frayed boy was not.

Still, his emotions did not reach the surface of his features. Everything sat quietly beneath a calm mask.

“No, no... I could never exist so far inland,” he answered the question that was presented to him with a purposeful smirk and a shake of his head. Then, he fastened his mismatched gaze on the features of the stranger, unafraid to peer into the singular good eye that remained on the other wolf's face. “I belong to the sea.” To the very thing that spat you out.

“Do you live here?”