Oystercatcher Tide Pools what an entrance

Svalinn was suffering from his own teenaged angst at that moment— doggedly pursing his mother, who had become intractably fixated on her aspirations for the Sound and catching up with her woe-begotten son. He hadn't gotten lost. Why was she still chasing these ghosts? He wanted to ask her this; beg—nay, demand she stop her roaming. He was roiling by the time he'd caught up to her, and she was under attack.

He recovered clumsily from his shock, before launching forward on a pellmell offensive, aiming to snag in his jaws whatever he could of the filthy cur who dare turn his jaws on his mother.